Stray
by Lavender Kiss
Summary: Prussia didn't have a place to go. And drinking probably hadn't been the best way to deal with the problem, especially since his drunk induced mind had apparently decided that London was the place to go. On hiatus for an indefinite amount of time. Sorry guys. Don't worry though, I haven't given up on it.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: For swearing in this and probably every chapter Prussia appears in.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

~ 1 ~

It was a day like any other in Germany. Prussia would have enjoyed the clear sky and spring air if he wasn't worrying about where he was going to sleep that night.

"Piyo, piyo!"

Prussia unconsciously reached up to scratch Gilbird on the head. "I know, I know." He ignored the weird looks people were giving him. He was used to it, being an albino and all. Having a yellow chick perched on his head wasn't really adding or taking away from his overall appearance.

He stuffed his hands in his jacket and fumed. Why was Germany such a spoilsport? It wasn't like he'd meant to bathe Ita in pancake batter mix, or trip Germany down the stairs. Couldn't he be happy that Romano had been too paralyzed with fear to move away from Germany's trajectory and brake his fall? Seriously, it had all been just one huge coincidence. One really funny coincidence. No one can blame him for laughing! Anyone else would have if they had been in his position.

That's why Prussia felt it was unfair to punish him by kicking him out of the house.

"_West ist__ so unvernünftig_."

He ducked into a bar and sat himself in a stool.

"Diebels Alt."

The bartender didn't even bat an eye and Prussia soon was taking a long and deep gulp of his beer.

"Ah, that hits the spot. Isn't that right Gilbird? Kesese!" He fished out his phone and started texting obscene messages to Austria. There was one response, kindly ordering him to stop and then silence. Prussia, of course, did not stop. The texting went on for a while until Hungary called him and screamed that she was going to kill him the next time she saw him. He immediately hung up on her mid-rant and ordered another beer.

He nursed his beer for a moment and then dialed France. He didn't have to wait long for France to pick up.

"_Bonjour_ Prussia. What is the matter?"

"Why do you think something's wrong. I could be calling just to chat." He heard France hum on the other end and just got right down to the point. "Alright, so I got kicked out of Germany's place indefinitely and I have nowhere to go. Could I maybe—,"

"_Non_."

"Wha? You didn't even let me finish my sentence!"

"Might I remind you, _mon_ _cher_ Prussia, what happened last time I let you stay over my place? Never again. Find someone else. _Au revoir_!"

"Wait. Don't you dare hang up on me Fra—" He glared at the phone and banged his fist on the table, startling the dude sitting next to him. "_Scheiße_!" He continued cursing until he remembered his other friend.

"Spain!" He quickly dialed and waited.

"_Hola_."

"Spain! My awesome bro, I'm so happy you answered. Listen, I need a place to crash."

There was a long pause on the other end and Prussia got a bad feeling.

"Oh, I'm sorry _amigo_, but Romano is coming over and I'm pretty sure he'd kill me if I let you stay. He told me what happened."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Just tell him he can't come over. He's at your place almost every day. I only get to see you when we go out drinking."

"No. I don't think so. Call France."

"I did," he said, "but the fucker said no."

"Well then, maybe you should apologize to your brother. He's a good man."

Prussia recalled his brother's face and shook his head. "My brother's kinda pissed off at me at the moment. I wanna let him cool down before he sees me again. Which is why I need a place to stay."

"_Perdón_, but I can't do it."

Prussia deflated and audibly sighed. "Fine." He hung up and drained the last of his beer. The bartender looked at him and Prussia made a hand gesture for more. "Keep them coming."

It was close to three when he stumbled out of the place and happily sang his way to the airport. He had enough money to last him for a while as long he abstained from spending it on unnecessary stuff. At least that's what his hazy mind told him.

At any other time, he would have grudgingly agreed but he was still buzzed so when he came to the window to order his ticket, he asked to be placed in first class. After all, he was a rather important person and deserved first class even if the people working here didn't know that he was important.

He heaved himself in a chair and lightly dozed off as he waited for his plane to board. From that point on everything was hazy. He wasn't sure how he managed to get on the plane. All he knew was that he woke up to someone shaking his shoulder.

He blinked owlishly and glanced around. "What? Where am I?"

"Sir," the flight attendant said, her voice strained as she tried to be cordial to the obviously hungover man. "We have arrived. It's time to leave."

Still mentally off balance, he stumbled his way outside to the terminal. He stretched his cramped body and looked at the unfamiliar place around him. On his head, Gilbird pecked his head and he reached to bring the bird to eye level. He raised an eyebrow. "Gillybird. Do you have any idea where I bought a ticket to?"

He watched Gilbird puff up and fly over to a sign. Prussia would have laughed if he wasn't so worn out and doomed. Yes, definitely doomed.

Prussia ran a hand through his pale hair and scowled. "Aw, for fucks sake. Out of all the places I could have…It just had to be England."

**A/N: Hello there. This is actually more of an experiment to get me back into writing. Most chapters will be short and will probably end at strange places only to start at the same place in the next chapter. This means a day will pass in the span of three chapters sometimes. If you don't like slow and somewhat fragmented stuff then you shouldn't read. Like I said, this is mostly to get me back into some sort of rhythm in my writing. If I do finish this story, I might go back and edit and fuse chapters together and stuff but that's getting way ahead of myself.**

**I don't know how long this will be but I do have an idea of where I want to take it. Don't expect action or anything (of either kind). I've never written Prussia or England so I have no idea if I'm doing them justice. I really would like your input and I'm especially interested in creative criticism. Don't be shy about telling me something about my grammar and spelling (but also don't be rude).**

**What else. Oh yes! I'm making a promise to myself to update every week but I won't make any promises to you guys because I know how I am. Meaning the chapter is being written but I fell behind in completing it. Or I'm holding back until I can plan further along and not get stuck.  
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_Translations:_

_German:_

_West ist so unvernünftig – West is so unreasonable_

_Scheiße – shit (will be used a lot - haha!)_

_The French and Spanish are basic. If you _really_ want me to put the translations then just tell me. I really don't mind._

_Notes:_

_Diebels Alt is…a German beer_

_Piyo – I like it better than tweet-tweet or pip-pip_


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone that reviewed. I'm like psyched about writing this story.**

~ 2 ~

It wasn't that Prussia didn't get along with England. In fact, they were occasional drink buddies and, dare he say it, friends? So really, it wasn't so bad that he was in England. And seeing as how all his close friends had abandoned him, why not crash over at England's place?

Really the only problem was, you know, that there was a chance the old man said no. He glanced at his empty wallet.

If only he hadn't wasted his money. He could have bought another ticket to someplace else. India's place for example! And it would have even been like a sort of vacation too.

"I guess I should be grateful I didn't buy a plane ticket to Russia."

He shivered at the mere thought.

He yawned. "Well, no point in waiting." He walked out of the terminal and proceeded to find his way to England's house. He'd only been there once before but he was grateful he had a good sense of direction or else he would have been completely lost in the large city that was London.

He sighed in relief at the sight of the large and old fashioned Victorian house in front of him. He quickly pushed the small gate open and made his way to the door. Suddenly nervous, he shuffled around in his shoes before ringing the bell. As he waited, he took the time to look at the garden. It wasn't fancy, just grass and a row of bushes hugging the house but it was well tended to. He wondered where the roses were. England always talked about them. He snapped back into attention when the door opened.

He tried not to look desperate when England's surprised eyes landed on his face.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Feeling sheepish, Prussia rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Well. West kicked me out and I kinda got drunk and bought a ticket…well the point is I don't have money left so I'm stuck here and you're the only other person I know. So…"

The look on England's face would have burned him to a crisp, he was sure.

He wished he could pull off the kicked puppy face that America often used against England. But as Hungary had been all too happy to point out, his red eyes and ghost like features tended to ruin the effect. So he opted to pray instead.

'God. If England has a heart, he'll let me stay.'

"I'll even help around!" he blurted out, surprising himself. At England's doubtful look (doubt was good. That meant he was thinking about it, right?) Prussia continued by adding, "Yeah, I can totally clean around the house. I'm awesome at that kinda shit. I can even cook for you or like tend your garden or something." He flinched as he heard himself speak. He was making himself sound like some sort of housekeeper. So not awesome but if it meant he wouldn't have to sleep out on the street that night, he'd just have to swallow his pride.

He stopped his babbling at the sight of a small twitch on the Brit's lips. He growled in annoyance and crossed his arms like a petulant child. If England was just going to make fun of him then Prussia would just take his pride back and take that bed in the park instead. Screw the limey bastard and his pasty ass. But England didn't laugh. Instead, he sighed and opened the door wider.

It took a moment for his brain to catch up.

At the invitation, Prussia pumped his fist and shouted a loud, "Yes!" He'd somehow won! He tried to go inside but England stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

Prussia found himself pinned by England's intense green eyes. The fact that England didn't even have to voice his threat was a testament to just how scary England could sometimes be. "Just a warning. Don't make me regret my decision."

But Prussia had been a former warrior born for war, so instead of feeling scared, he just brushed off England's hand and smirked triumphantly. "Don't sweat it Limey. I'll do my share of the work."

England's eyes darkened. "I'm already regretting this," he mumbled and watched with worry as Prussia walked around exploring the house. He just hoped he didn't break anything of value like a certain American tended to do

After walking around the place for bit (he did not almost topple over a vase), he made his way back to the exotically furnished hall. England wasn't there though so he backtracked and started peeking into rooms.

He found him in his living room with a cup of tea in his hand and a book in the other. He couldn't help but admire how _British_ England was. He wondered whether he had a tray of crumpets lying around too or some scones.

England leaned his head to the side for a second, like if he was straining to hear something, and then quickly snapped his head over to Prussia. Feeling caught, Prussia cleared his throat and said, "Uh, nice place you have here."

England snorted. "Right." He took one last sip from his tea before he set it down on a small tray next to the book. He stood, dusting himself off and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well. No offense old chap, but you look more dead than alive."

"That's what drinking and sleeping in an uncomfortable position does to you," he mumbled.

"I suppose you'd like to shower." He walked towards the stairs and motioned for him to follow. "I'll show you to your quarters." England hummed. "I'm just going to assume you brought nothing with you."

"And you'd assume correctly."

"So I'll just lie some of America's clothes out for you."

Prussia's eyes bugged out and he couldn't help but whistle and say, "Whoa! I didn't know that things were like _that_."

England froze in the middle of the hall and turned to glare at him. "No! It's not like _that_." He waved his hand vaguely. "America occasionally barges into my home, either scared after watching a movie, or wanting to watch one with me. No matter which of the two it is, he refuses to leave and always ends up sleeping over. This has been a common occurrence since the rise of the horror film industry. So I've learned to keep spare clothes for him unless I want him to start rummaging around my things." His green eyes flashed when they landed on Prussia's face. He pointed an accusing finger at the albino. "Now you stop that right now!"

Prussia backed up and set his face into one of pure innocence. "What? I didn't say anything."

"You're thinking dirty thoughts. Stop it or I'll kick your arse to the streets."

Silence and then, "You really are an old man."

It took all of England's control not to hit the German. Good thing he was used to people like America and Frances. They had helped to build up his tolerance although they had certainly not helped with his alcohol intake. Instead, he took a deep breath and ignored the insult, shooting one of his own. "This way, Kraut."

He held back a smirk at Prussia's face. Serves him right.

"Not awesome," the Prussian mumbled but kept his mouth shut until he was in his temporary room. No point in pushing England's buttons until after he'd showered and had a good night's sleep.

"The bathroom is right across your room. I'll go get you that spare change of clothes. You may use one of the towels in the closet. Just place it in the bin when you're done using it along with your clothes."

Prussia almost didn't hear him. Instead he collapsed on the bed and sighed in contentment as the soft mattress soothed his aching back. Gilbird had already made himself at home on the pillow of the bed. He watched with a bit of envy as his bird slept.

"Need to take that shower before I can settle down to sleep." Groaning, he pushed himself back to his feet and stripped, dumping his clothes where England had indicated earlier. Scratching his chest, he strode to the bathroom. He took a moment to look around. It was a really nice bathroom. He laughed at the sight of little fairy statues. He picked one up and inspected its face. What the hell! He set it back down and got in the shower.

The spray of scalding water loosened his muscles and he found himself relaxing. Glancing around, his eyes settled on a bottle of shampoo. He read the label. Ocean spray? He shrugged. At least it wasn't roses like France or manly smell like Germany. He squeezed a generous amount of the gel into his palm and rubbed it into his hair. He began humming the Prussian anthem.

By the time he finished and made his way back to the room, it was dark and he was ready to pass out. He couldn't help but smirk at the shirt and sweatpants laid out for him on the chair. He threw the towel in the bin and tugged on the clothes. They were a little too big but comfortable.

He turned off the lights and collapsed for the second time on the bed. As soon as his eyes closed, he was thrown into oblivion.

**A/N: Well this was originally going to cut off mid way, cause that's how I wrote it but once I wrote the second part I just decided to put them together. So anyway, tell me what you think. Again, if there are any mistakes don't be shy to tell me. I'm also trying to improve my writing so any helpful tips are much appreciated.  
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_Notes: _

_ Limey – a British person _

_Kraut – a WWII slang/insult that mean German (actually, literally it means cabbage)._

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	3. Chapter 3

~ 3 ~

The warm rays of morning woke Prussia up and he groaned, rolling over to escape from the light.

"-the fuck left the curtains open," he mumbled into his pillow and cracked one sleep crusted eye. A ball of yellow feathers met his vision and he blinked once before he closed his eye again. He sighed. "Gillybird. Was that your doing?"

His only answer was the usual "piyo piyo" and he groaned again.

"Fuck," he said and rolled out of bed. He yawned and cracked his back. His eyes landed on the room and he froze. Very slowly, he stepped back and said, "Uh, is it just me, or did someone mess with my room." Really, the morning light should have given it away. He lived in Germany's basement, aka the Batcave. No windows whatsoever.

His head was lightly pounding, the usual sign of a hangover, and he rubbed at his temple. He tried to remember what he'd done yesterday.

"Oh."

_Now_ he remembered.

Well, considering how things could have gone, this wasn't so bad. He looked down at his pajamas and smirked as he remembered last night's conversation. He stomach growled and he sniffed. "Aw man, I'm starving." He never did finish making those pancakes and while beer was awesome, it didn't exactly count as a meal. Maybe he could cook himself something before England kicked him out. It was worth a try.

"Come on Chicky."

He opened the door to his room and stared down the hall. He had to admire England's taste of décor. Paintings of ships at sea, battles, statues of people he'd had the pleasure of facing in battle. It was like walking through a museum of Europe's past. Nice but not especially homey.

The stairs creaked under his weight and he quickly jumped the last three. "Now where was that kitchen?"

Gilbird flew past him and guided him the rest of the way. Prussia immediately made a break for the fridge. It was like opening a mini treasure box. Fresh fruit and vegetables greeted his eyes, eggs, sealed meat, some leftovers which Prussia steered clear of, milk, home made orange juice (which he pulled out to pour himself a glass). But the jackpot was the bag of sausages and bacon.

He licked his lips. There was nothing Prussia liked more than the smell of sausages and bacon in the morning.

"Might as well make some for England. I did say I'd help around," he mussed as he set the pan on the stove and spread some oil around. He cracked some eggs, seasoned them, and cooked the bacon and sausages next to them. He hummed as he flitted from toasting the bed, to flipping the bacon and sausages over. This was the sight that greeted England when he came down from his room.

They both froze, Prussia in surprise, England in embarrassment.

After a moment, he heard England mumble, "I though yesterday was a dream." His faced morphed from embarrassment to annoyance as he swatted at something next to him. "Yes I _know_ you tried to tell me." He stopped talking and instead coughed, shifting to stand behind a chair to hide him self.

Prussia wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, he wanted to tease England's pajamas. Granted they weren't very embarrassing. Just plain plaited green pants and a white T-shirt. And yet Prussia had never seen England looking so normal that he didn't really want to ruin the moment by being…well…himself.

Instead he said, "Made breakfast."

Surprise flickered across the Brit's face. "You made breakfast?"

"I said I would didn't I?"

England's face softened and he looked shy all of a sudden. Prussia's mind was seriously going to explode if England kept these surprises up. "Well, thanks. You didn't have to."

"Hell yeah. I'm not gonna risk you poisoning me again."

_That_ ruined the mood.

England's face hardened and his back stiffened. The aura of British asshole was back. "I think perhaps I'll just have some tea."

Knowing he'd screwed up; Prussia tried to remedy the situation. "Aw, don't be like that. I was only joking. Come on. You don't want the food to go to waste do you?"

"I'm sure you can find it in yourself to eat my half as well," he said dryly. "God knows your love of eating and stuffing your face is almost comparable to that of America's."

That was true. But England made it sound more like an insult. He made a face. "That's not very gentlemanly of you, you know."

"Considering it's only you, I don't think it much matters." There was a small upturn of the lips though and Prussia patted himself on the back. He wordlessly held out the plate of food and the Englishman took it with a small indignant huff. The smile was still playing at his lips though. They sat at the dining table together. Prussia made sure to crumble some of the toasted bread on a plate for Gilbird to eat. He smirked at England's curious gaze.

"He likes bread but if it were up to him, he'd just eat sunflower seeds. It's one of the reasons Gilbird likes Russia. That guy spoils him rotten whenever I have the misfortune of bumping into him."

"He's a strange species." England held his hand out and Gilbird willingly hopped onto his finger. While England inspected him he said, "Do you know what he is."

Prussia shrugged and scooped some eggs onto his fork. "Hell if I know. I didn't even know he was following me around until Ita pointed it out. At first I thought he was a baby chick but it's been years and he hasn't gotten any bigger. Plus he can fly just fine." He chewed on a sausage. "I was kinda hoping he'd turn into this huge badass bird but this way's awesome too. He's small and I can hide him in my pocket when I go out. Kesese!"

"Her."

Prussia dropped his bacon and stared at England like if he'd grown a second head. "What?"

Unperturbed England gently scratched Gilbird's head. "Her. She's a girl."

Prussia swallowed and then reached to grab Gilbird. He brought him—her to eye level. He couldn't stop the outrage from seeping from his voice. "Is that true? Are you a girl?" Gilbird just stared at him with his—her beady black eyes and piyoed at him. "_Oh Gott_! I've been living a lie!"

England watched this with amusement. He chewed slowly on his bacon and took small careful sips from his juice. He felt relaxed which was rare and the breakfast was rather good. Despite Prussia being obnoxious most of the time, he apparently knew how to work the kitchen.

How novel! And so the morning passed pleasantly without further revelations or disturbances.

**A/N: And here's a short chapter. I like the idea of Gilbird being a girl and Prussia just not knowing. It's Hungary all over again. Haha!**

**As always, reviews show interest. And I really just want to know what you guys think so far. Is it alright? Should I continue? Should I start another story cause I've found myself very interested in the micronations as of late. I have a lot of stuff for them that are just unfinished. Maybe one day I'll post them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, I felt like updating earlier cause I wanted something happy and stress free to entertain myself with for a bit.**

~ 4 ~

"I can't believe Gilbird's a girl," he mumbled. He was lying sprawled on the couch staring at the ceiling feeling stupid and bored.

"It's your own fault for assuming she was a boy and not bothering to check your facts."

Prussia sighed and turned to look at England. He was doing paper work. In other words, he was doing old man stuff and being boring. Prussia made a face at him. Come on! They were the about the same age and _he_ at least was still awesome and cool and definitely a fun person to hang out with. Although Prussia found the clothes the Brit had chosen to wear _very_ interesting. Jeans with a burgundy sweater vest over a long sleeved white shirt that was rolled up to the elbows. Funny how he didn't _look_ old but he sure _acted_ old.

Tick tock.

Stupid goddamn mother fucking clock. The silence was driving him insane!

There was nothing to do. England's old ass TV didn't have cable and Prussia had been stuck watching the news for ten agonizing minutes before he'd turned it off and gone back to being bored. Any other time he would have pulled out his trusty phone and messed around with it but as he'd found out during breakfast, it was dead and it wasn't going to come back to life any time soon.

"If you're so bored," England said, glancing up from his work and giving him an annoyed hand motion, "why don't you go out and do some sightseeing. Or better yet, you could try to get in contact with your brother and possibly resolve this little problem you've gotten yourself into."

Prussia leaned his head back and gave England an upside down grin. "Aw, trying to get rid of me already?"

England huffed. "I'm just curious. How long _are_ you planning on staying?"

Hum. That was actually a pretty good question. "I'm…not sure. Until you kick me out?"

England dropped his pen and inclined in his chair. He looked troubled.

Prussia raised an eyebrow and rolled over so he was lying on his stomach. "Something wrong Iggy?"

"Don't call me that," he snapped automatically. His defensive stance deflated and said, "Nothing's wrong it's just, I'm leaving London in a couple of days. Do you think it's possible you will have settled things with your brother soon?"

Prussia ignored the question and instead asked one of his own. "Leaving? Where too?"

This was interesting news. As far as Prussia knew, there weren't any meetings any time soon. In fact, the next one wouldn't be until three months from now. He should know. He'd made sure to memorize Germany's schedule so he'd know when he could get away with stuff, you know, since he doesn't attend any of the world meetings anymore. Not that he wants to. Judging by Germany's foul mood whenever he gets back from them, they never get anything done.

He watched England shift uncomfortably in his seat and he waved his hand vaguely. "I'm just going to my cottage."

Prussia blinked. "Cottage?"

England rolled his eyes. "Yes. Cottage. I don't spend all my time in London, you know."

"Well, I kinda though you did." Despite the house being big and filled with elaborate decorations that probably cost a fortune, Prussia had just figured England liked collecting things. It had even sort of suited him if his stuffy British persona carried over to his personal life. It made since, considering how England had been all around the world – colonies in Africa, Asia, Oceania, North and South America. Of course he'd collect things and put them in his home. Prussia himself had a couple of trophies from his glory days but most of them were in cardboard boxes shoved under his bed.

The Englishman shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to his paperwork. "I only use this house when there's a world meeting being held here or when I need to discuss political issues with my boss for extended periods of time. I don't especially like living in London, although a visit once in a while is refreshing. In general it's too loud and crowded."

Prussia barely heard him mumble something about fairies and solitude but he chose to ignore that part.

"So…that means I was lucky that you were still in town?"

"Hum, now that you mention it. You were extremely lucky."

Prussia mulled this new information over. Now he was curious to know where England really lived but he had a feeling the Brit wouldn't tell him easily. Prussia went back to staring at the ceiling.

A couple more minutes of silence passed before he heard England sigh and the sound of his papers ruffling caught his attention. He was putting his work away and only mumbled a resigned, "Come on. I suppose I can spare some time to entertain my guest. Maybe you'll even find something you like and you'll finally let me finish my work without this awkward silence between us."

Prussia jumped to his feet, relieved at finally doing something. "I didn't think it was awkward," he offered as he watched England slip his coat on. "Just boring."

England just hummed at him and slipped his keys into his pockets. He paused long enough to sweep his eyes over Prussia's body and give him a dubious look. "Are you not going to wear a coat? I think I have one of America's old jackets lying around. If you want I can look for it."

"Naw. It's not even that cold out."

This statement being contradicted by the fact that just outside the window, the sky looked blue and gloomy and a moderate wind was swaying the tree leaves.

England frowned and Prussia found it funny that he was briefly turning into the mother hen that France always said England was deep inside. "You might catch a cold."

"Puff. I'm too awesome to catch a cold!"

That made England roll his eyes and just walk towards the door. "Suit yourself."

**A/N: Because I see England liking the countryside more than the city. Does anyone else think that England fits in better among the ocean and forest? And yeah, the cottage. It's actually one of the few things I had clear in my mind when I started writing this story but I couldn't introduce it right away because it's supposed to be England's getaway, hence a secret that only a select few know about (aka. NOT America or France).  
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**Now that I look at it, this chapter would actually work as part of the last.**


	5. Chapter 5

~ 5 ~

"_Scheiße!_"

This was followed by a series of sneezes.

"I told you. You should have brought a coat along."

"Yeah, well you should have brought an umbrella. This is your country. How could you not know it was going to rain?"

England eyed Prussia's pink face with annoyance and shook his head. "Stop acting like a child."

Prussia just grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest to keep warm. His red eyes swept over the drenched street. People were running and ducking inside shops. Others, who had had the foresight to bring umbrellas, were walking rapidly, necks buried deep in their jackets.

He felt his nose tickle and he sneezed. He cursed again in German and slumped even further against the wall.

He felt a cold arm on his bicep and whined in protest as England led him out into the rain.

"What the fuck!"

"Oh, belt up. I'm just making our way over to that little tea house across the street. It's bound to be much warmer and you can order something to warm yourself up."

That appealed to him and he hurried alongside England. When they entered the shop, they saw that it was crowded. England spotted an empty table off in the corner. "Hurry. Go over there and warm up. I'll order for us."

Prussia was too miserable to protest. He was glad Gilbird had stayed back in England's house. She wouldn't have been too happy about getting wet. He leaned back in his chair and barely glanced over when England joined him.

"The teas should arrive shortly. I took the liberty to order some sandwiches incase you were hungry."

"Thanks."

They sat in companionable silence, interrupted only when a waitress brought over their tea and…something.

Prussia did a double take. What in the hell…was _this_? He poked at it and lifted one up to show England. "What is this?"

England frowned. "A sandwich."

"I know that but why is it tiny? How is this supposed to fill me up?" He held it on his palm for reference and looked offended.

The Englishman clicked his tongue and poured cream in his tea. "It's not. Might I remind you that this is a tea house, not a restaurant."

Prussia peeled the bread back and eyeballed the cucumbers in disbelieve. "It doesn't even have cheese or ham. This isn't even a real sandwich." He stuffed it in his mouth anyway. Swallowing, he said, "Blah! Why couldn't you have ducked into a real food place?"

A kick to his shins set him in his place. "Fuck," he hissed as he rubbed at the sour area. He tried to kick England back but he'd moved his legs out of reach. Prussia debated for a moment if throwing his plate of mini sandwiches was worth getting kicked out of the shop. By the look of the pouring rain, that was a big fat no and he grudgingly sat to drink his tea.

"I would have preferred coffee," he said, hoping that would get a rise out of the British man.

"Too bad," he said instead. "I'm paying anyway so what do you have to complain about?"

"I would have paid if I had the money," he mumbled and stuffed another mini sandwich in his mouth.

Prussia had to admit, the tea warmed him right up to the point that he could forgive the poor excuse for sandwiches. His nose wasn't runny and the tickle in his throat was gone. He started playing with his spoon as he watched the rain outside and suddenly he felt melancholic.

Before his brain could catch up with his mouth he said, "Man, I feel old."

The Brit set his cup of tea down and gave Prussia a look. "Don't we all," he finally said.

But Prussia shook his head and leaned his head on his hand. "Maybe. But sitting here just makes me want to go back to the days when I'd join my men into battle. Those days were awesome, where we'd go marching towards our enemy, swords or guns ready and just fight."

He heard England hum in agreement. "I suppose I feel like that sometimes too. I sometimes find myself missing the feel of the waves beneath my feet and the smell of the ocean breeze." He grinned. "Remember the Seven Years War?"

Prussia laughed. "France's face when we won. Epic awesomeness. Wish I'd had an artist with me."

"We could have captured his face for eternity."

The air between them had lightened. "Those were good times. Our Anglo-Prussian alliances were great. You were awesome to hang out with in those times. You could hold your liquor better back then."

"Hey! I can still hold my liquor you bloody twat!"

"Kesese! Limey, I saw you drunk last month. You ripped your shirt off and started crying about how America is an ungrateful brat. Same old, same old. At least when you got drunk back in the eighteenth century you were more likely to start a brawl rather than rant and get all depressed."

They settled back in their seats.

The albino heard England's sudden chuckle and gave him a questioning look. "Look at us. _Reminiscing_. I don't know whether to find this sad or pleasant."

"Hey, I have a right to reminisce. I'm a retired nation. You can't use the same excuse."

"Maybe. But I do believe I'm older than you."

"What's this? Admitting that you're an old man?"

"Oh shut up."

Prussia laughed and gulped down the last of his tea. He leaned back in his chair and momentarily closed his eyes. The sound of the tea house disappeared to the back of his mind. Images of his kings, Old Fritz, his men, Napoleon, England in his privateer outfit, France and Spain. Those were the good old days.

"I suddenly feel the urge to get pissed," England said out of the blue.

Prussia snapped upright and grinned in agreement. "Yeah, me too." He looked out the window. "The rain hasn't let up though." But England was already up and Prussia had no choice but to follow him.

The blast of cold air hit Prussia like a punch in the face and he immediately started shivering. "Aw, there goes all my progress." He frowned when he saw England heading towards another shop. "Where are we going?"

"To get you something warmer."

Before Prussia could say anything England had already entered a small little clothes shop. He caught up to England who was inspecting some large jackets. He held one out for Prussia to inspect. But the albino ignored it in favor of a black sweater with a skull and eagle. He grabbed it in excitement and held it out.

"Whoa! It has the black eagle on it. Didn't know British people enjoyed my flag this much."

England took it wordlessly. On his way to the cash register he also picked up a plain blue umbrella.

While Prussia waited for the transaction to finish up, it occurred to him that he was allowing England to buy him something. He suddenly felt like a girl. "It's okay though," he whispered. "I'll pay him back." Eventually.

He cried out in alarm when the sweater was thrown at his face. He yanked it off rapidly and pushed the Englishman harshly. "What the hell En-uh-Iggy." He almost chuckled nervously at the curious gaze of the shop keeper.

"Come on," England said, grabbing Prussia's shirt collar and dragging him outside. The cold hit him again and he immediately wiggled out of the Brit's hold to put on the sweater. He couldn't stop the sigh of contentment from escaping his lips. As he basked in the warmth, he tried to ignore England's very obvious smug smile.

"Better?" he asked.

"What do you think?"

"Are you ready to head to the pub?"

"Hell to the yes!"

**A/N: Hello! So I updated and I kinda like this chapter. I'm not sure why myself but it was fun writing. Once again, any mistakes in spelling and grammar, be sure to tell me so I can go back and fix them. I would also love to hear what you think about this story.**

**Notes:**

**The Seven Year War was probably best bud days for England and Prussia (although I doubt they saw each other that much). It was them against France and Austria. It established Britain as the greatest colonial power and Prussia as the greatest power in the continent. This truly was, the peak of their golden days. No wonder when they think about their glory days, that's where their minds will be drawn to.  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

~ 6 ~

"Kesese! You're spilling it all over. Keep still."

"Okay! Okay!"

They sat on stools leaning heavily on each other. Up close, England's flushed face was almost diabolical but Prussia was too drunk to tell the difference. He was so far gone, he didn't even notice when he swung his arm around the Brit's thinner shoulders, giving him a squeeze and ordering for more beer. At any other time England would have ripped off his arm but seeing as how things were, he just went along with it. He raised his glass and bumped it against Prussia's forehead to get his attention.

"One more time mate! An' this time I'll beat you." His cackle sent shivers down the spines of the other costumers and many stared at the two like if they were crazy.

Prussia's eyes immediately brightened once he caught on to what England was thinking.

"Not a chance!" Prussia said, cocky and willing for the challenge. Despite the high amount of alcohol he'd already consumed, definitely more than England, his face was less red but his eyes were bloodshot and way scarier than England's creepy smile. Together, they looked like serial killers actually.

They grinned at each other, pulling back to start the drinking contest. It was their second one so far because the last had ended in a tie with both of them momentarily blacking out. Although Prussia had claimed he'd won that one.

The bartender looked at them wearily but also with a small confused smile.

"One…two…thr – oh, not again ye bloody prat!"

England watched with growing annoyance as Prussia downed his beer before England could properly announce the start. Not one to be left behind though, he quickly tipped his glass back and swallowed the golden beer in one gulp. He slammed his glass down and smirked at Prussia's disappointed face.

"Whatever," he said and raised his glass for a refill but the bartender didn't move.

"Don't you think you have had enough yet men?"

Prussia snorted. "What are you, my bruder?"

The bartender raised his hands to show he meant no harm. "I'm going to have to cut you off. You've had too much to drink."

"Give me a break," Prussia said, rolling his eyes and staggering to his feet to be more intimidating. He couldn't quite pull it off. "We're in the middle of a…um, what's the word…?"

"Drinkin' game."

"Yeah! Thanks limey. Drinking game."

But the bartender wouldn't budge. Instead, he gave England an amused smile and said, "I think it's time for you two to head home. Want me to call a taxi again?"

England shook his head and also staggered to his feet. Unlike Prussia though, he tried to look more presentable by smoothing his wrinkly clothes and running a hand through his hair. But he was clumsy and his hand coordination was off. In the end, it did nothing to improve his look but he didn't seem to notice.

As soon as they stepped out into the cold and damp London air, England started humming.

They were a good way down the street, with no real direction in mind, when England began singing to some tune that Prussia swears he'd heard before but he was too drunk to remember from where he'd heard it before.

_Way, hay up she rises,__  
><em>_Way, hay, up she rises,__  
><em>_Way, hay, up she rises,__  
><em>_Earlye in the morning!_

"Hey," Prussia said frowning. "It's not morning! Change it to nightfall or something."

He received a clumsy smack. "I can't do that ye bloody idiot. It's part of the song." And then he continued singing.

_What will we do with the drunken sailor?__  
><em>_What will we do with the drunken sailor?__  
><em>_What will we do with the drunken sailor?__  
><em>_Earlye in the morning?_

Prussia began singing with him on the second "What will we be doing with the drunken sailor."

Their singing was cut off with a loud yell as England tripped on the curb. The only reason he didn't fall flat on his face and possibly knock himself out was because Prussia still had a hold of his shoulder. They landed hard on the pavement, England with a grunt as they knocked their heads together.

"Ow," Prussia said after a moment.

They didn't make a move to get back up. Instead they lay on their backs, staring up at the sky, their legs dangling out onto the street while the other half rested on the still wet pavement.

England picked off from where he left off in the song until he was rudely interrupted yet again, this time by a stupid question. "How does the rest of the song go?"

"If ye let me finish, you'd know!"

"No I mean teach me." Prussia laughed. "I wanna sing it to Germany when he gets drunk." He struggled to sit up and England followed suit but the Brit had turned bitchy and he crossed his arms in defiance.

"I don't wanna to teach ye anything."

He growled when Prussia brushed up against his bicep. "Come on. Be a pal." The rancid breath on his cheek made him reel his hand back and punch. He stood up on unsteady legs and watched with sadistic glee as Prussia complained and cursed him in German.

England smiled wider and Prussia caught sight of it.

It took all of two seconds for Prussia to forget his pain and jump to his feet. He didn't give England a chance to react before he lunged, arms reaching for his throat. The only thing that saved England from getting strangled was that he was unsteady on his feet and wobbled to the side. That didn't stop Prussia from colliding with the left side of his body and they both flew in different directions. Aware that he was in some trouble, England immediately broke into a run.

"Komm gefälligst zurück, Limey!"

England just yelled, "Fuck ye, ye drunken kraut!"

Ten minutes into the chase, both forgot why they were even running and stopped to catch their breath. England starting laughing first, unsure as to why, and Prussia soon joined him just cause. They started walking again, in the opposite direction of where they were going before but still nowhere near the direction to the house. England finished his shanty and then sang it again. After two more loops, Prussia knew enough of the lyrics to start singing along.

_Put him in the scuppers with the hose pipe on him  
>Hoist him aboard with a running bowline<br>Put him in the brig until he's sober.  
>Make him turn to at shining bright work.<br>Put him in a boat and row him over  
>Hoist him up to the topsail yardarm<br>Make him clean out all the spit-kids_

_That's what you do with a drunken sailor_

They sang until their voices cracked.

"Man," Prussia said when he noticed he was seeing double lights. "We're so wasted."

"Let's sit down for a moment."

They found a nice little bench and Prussia immediately leaned on England. The Brit would have none of that and shoved him away with enough force to send him flopping to the other side of the bench. "Keep to yourself!"

"You know England," Prussia said without really thinking. "You're a real heartless jerk sometimes."

…

Instead of screaming and yelling obscenities like he would have if he was sober, England's eyes teared up. He turned his head quickly to try and hide them but it was too late. Prussia had seen.

"Are you…crying?"

"No!"

The albino leaned over and tried to turn England his way. He succeeding in jerking England's hand away from his face for only a moment but it was enough. "You totally are!"

"I said I'm not!" he cried and he quickly morphed from sad, to angry, and then to depressed. This all happened in the span of a second and Prussia sat back to watch the transformation. He cringed as he realized what he'd done.

"How dare you accuse me of being heartless! I gave nothing but affection and support to all of my colonies. Yes, I might have been strict and sometimes our governments got in the way, but I always treated them like my little brothers. Nothing more, nothing less. When they were children, I bathed and fed them. When they grew older, I gave them space but I was always there in case they needed me. I—," England chocked and said, "I cared for them like they were my brothers. And look where that left me! America betrayed me. Went off and did that bloody revolution. One by one Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India left me. I'm not heartless! But they all left me alone! And you!" he said, almost hissing. "You're not much better. What gives you the right to call me heartless you – you, lazy arse!"

And as the rant went on and on, Prussia couldn't help but notice that rare but familiar feeling he sometimes got when he felt uncomfortable (usually by something he'd said or done to someone). That one feeling where he felt like if he'd been punched in the stomach while trying to swallow. He suddenly felt responsible for fixing the situation but he could only think of one thing to do (since his mind was too fuzzy to really think things through) so he stood and awkwardly tried to hug the Brit.

Surprised by the attack and confused by it, England let him self be hugged.

It was brief and when Prussia pulled away, there was a wide and excited grin on his face. "Hey, why don't we go to some place and beat people up! That always makes me feel better and I know how much you like fights." It didn't matter that they weren't really supposed to go around beating humans up.

What England should have done was shake his head and drag them both back home to sleep off there intoxication. He was supposed to be a gentleman after all and what would his boss say if he found out?

Except he was a drunken sailor right now so being a gentleman wasn't high on his mind.

Instead, England's eyes brightened and he clenched his fist in anticipation. "That's a brilliant idea! I know a place. Scotland took me there…once. Or not really. He was drunk you see, and so I had to pick him up."

Prussia tuned out that last part and instead focused on the first. "Great! Where is it?"

"Just follow me."

The place was one of those buildings that put on a front of a dance and bar but underneath, literally in the basement, there was a whole other world. It didn't take much to get in. They were let in rather easily, much to Prussia's delight. Apparently England had come here more than once. In fact, he was such a familiar face the guy guarding the door had even asked him if he had come to pick up his brother. Seriously, if England could get him into places like these without a problem, he was his knew best friend.

"This is going to be awesome!"

He looked around at the mish-mash of people cheering for one or the other contestant. He felt adrenaline burst into his blood stream as he anticipated a battle. He spotted the booth to register and quickly told England his intentions.

"I'm going to go sign up. Buy us some beer."

He shoved his way through and cut in front of the line. The people behind him yelled and cursed and one even tried to forcefully push him out of the line but Prussia was stronger than he looked. He just gave them the middle finger and his cockiest grin before turning his attention to the person in the booth. Not even batting an eye, the person just preceded to do their job.

"Name."

"The Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt. Make sure to write in 'The Awesome' part so the announcer guy can properly introduce me to the crowd."

"Fine. Sign these papers and you're in. Next!"

"Sweet," he mumbled as he went to do just that. He took a moment to look for England and saw him talking to some pretty brunette and laughed.

Meanwhile, England was highly impressed by his citizen's knowledge of Shakespeare. Enough so, that he'd invited her to have a drink with him and was flashing her his most charming smile. His voice had gone through a transformation from drunken piratish grumbles to suave the instant he'd been engaged in conversation.

"So why are you in a place like this?" she asked.

Before he could answer her, a loud, "For our next round it'll be Charles Thornton vs. The, uh, Awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!"

The two men pulled themselves on stage and waved at the crowd. They cheered and England could see Prussia milking the attention for all it was worth. He could see the stupid grin on his face from all the way across the room and he snorted. He looked back at his companion who was cheering along with the crowd.

He jerked his thumb at Prussia who was now engaging his opponent in some, not so friendly, banter. "That would be the reason," he said with a dry chuckle.

**A/N: Well, originally I wasn't going to write them actually out drinking. Instead I was going to write about the morning after but I figured you guys deserved to watch, at least, the beginning part of their fun filled night. It helps too that I got curious. Next chapter should be the morning after. As always guys, read and review to tell me what you think.**

_Translation:_

_Komm gefälligst zurück, Limey! – Get back here limey!  
><em>


	7. Chapter 7

**I would like to thank Izz2000 for helping me out. I appreciate it. Also, I'm sorry this took so long. I was on vacation without internet and I was too lazy to go find one.**

~ 7 ~

The smell of something bitter and earthy woke him up and his body felt something warm and soft next to him. In the back of his mind, he thought this was strange but comfort and contentment won over paranoia and he snuggled deeper into it. The warmth under his arms shifted and before he could yell out, he found himself flying off the bed and onto the floor.

"What the bloody hell wanker! How did you get in my bed?"

Using every ounce of his control, Prussia willed away his hangover and sleep hazed mind to notice a couple of things. Besides the fact that they had apparently slept together. One, they were both fully closed and two…

He smirked as he pulled himself to his feet. "Guess again Limey. Looks like you made your way to my bed. Kesese."

Prussia took this moment to savor England's confused and then horrified face as he looked around at the room. He waited a beat and then proceeded to rub it in. "Guess you can't get enough of the awesome me. It's not enough to look and be in my presence. You need to touch and cuddle with me. What next? Kisses? I have to warn you though. I'm straight. But I guess I can let you take a peek at my awesome man—,"

"Shut up!" His face was so red, Prussia was tempted to pull a Spain and call him a tomato to his face. He wondered what sort of reaction that would provoke. Probably something similar to Romano's but more bloody and possibly death inducing.

England flinched at his own loud voice and slumped back into bed. He rubbed at his temple and mumbled, "Oh God. My head is killing me. I don't have the energy to thrash you." He looked over almost accusingly at Prussia, like if everything was his fault. "What in the bloody hell did we do last night?"

The albino shrugged and held out his scratched knuckles. "I don't know but by the looks of my hands and the fact that I feel several bruises on my body, it must have been pretty awesome."

England also inspected his hands and bit his lip. "Looks like I participated in whatever shenanigans we were up too. I hope it wasn't anything illegal." He crawled out of bed, his shirt and pants wrinkled and out of place. His hair was even worse than normal but Prussia imagined he didn't look much better. The green-eyed nation padded across the room to his jacket and shoes.

"Aw, bollocks." He held out his muddied penny loafers. "They're utterly ruined now."

Prussia snorted. "Good riddance. Now you can wear normal shoes."

England glared. "For your information, these are the only pair of proper shoes I brought over from my cottage. Now I'll have to go into town to buy a new pair." He set the shoes back down, grimacing at the sight of his stained floor and moved to inspect his coat. His hands rummaged around the pockets until they brushed against something odd. He pulled out a small crumpled piece of paper with a phone number neatly scrawled over. Hearts dotted the edges.

"Is that what I think it is?" Prussia cried and scrambled his way over to get a closer look. He leaned on England's back, snatching the note from his fingers and smiled like a lunatic when his eyes glossed over it. "You old dog. You picked up a chick last night. Didn't know you had it in you."

"Give that back you ingrate."

He snatched the note back and shoved Prussia off of him.

"You should call her."

"I don't think so. Why in the world would I give my phone to some stranger?"

"To get laid?"

Prussia received only a punch for that.

Frowning, he rubbed at his already bruised arm. "Why do you always have to be so old about everything?" He expected this punch though and quickly dodged. He continued talking. "Listen. If it turns out bad, you can always change your phone number."

By the look on the Brit's face that wasn't going to work and so he tried a different tactic. After all, no one could say that he wasn't resourceful. "Come on. Maybe she can tell us what happened last night."

That made England pause his shuffling and consider for a moment. Prussia grinned when he saw the Brit fish out his phone. He made it clear though, that it wasn't because he was curious. "This is only for investigative purposes. I don't want to get in trouble with my boss if something indecorous were to be published."

"Sounds like you've had some experience with that."

England blushed and sputtered. "Well, that was back in the eighties and I've—," He was abruptly cut off.

Prussia watched for a second and then not so tactfully edged his way closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. England shoved his face away with his hand as he cranked up his British charm and skillfully interviewed the girl. She probably didn't even realize what he was doing and was probably getting her hopes up. From what she was telling him though, it had to be something good.

"Thank you Helen. It was a pleasure speaking with you and I'll make sure to ring you up sometime later."

Before Prussia could ask if he was actually going to follow up on that, England was already dialing another number. This time Prussia had no clue who he was talking to.

"James? This is Arthur."

Prussia mouthed Arthur and the Englishman just waved him away. His attention was back on the phone.

"…yes…that's exactly why I'm calling." There was a pause on the other end.

"Five you say? Are you sure? Well thank you James." He hung up again and turned to face Prussia. "Well by the sound of it, we had a lovely adventure last night."

All Prussia could say was, "Arthur? That's your alias for when you're out mingling with humans?"

That annoyed England who felt that there were more important things to talk about. "So what? I imagine every one of us nations has one. We don't go around telling humans our real names, do we?"

"No…but Arthur's kinda lame."

"And yours isn't? Gil-bert." He annunciated the syllables mockingly. At Prussia's surprised face he explained, "Helen kept referring to my albino companion as Gilbert so I assumed that was you. Did you take your name after your bird?"

"Hell no! Gilbird took her name after me. Gilbert is an awesome name."

England rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Now back to the matter at hand."

"Uh-huh, awesome adventure. Go on." Prussia tried to jump England again who skillfully shoved him off.

"Hum, according to James we left the bar somewhere around five. We were completely bladdered by the way, to the point that we were singing old sea shanties. One of us, possibly you, had the brilliant idea to go to a brawl. That's where I apparently met Helen. You signed up while I waited in the sidelines and chattered with her. She tells me you were rather good in the first few rounds but on the last one, your opponent cheated. We were both still drunk and both of us took it as an offense." Prussia could easily see things going down hill from there. "You of course, went barmy and beat the man to a pulp. His mates weren't too happy and I had to intervene. The night ended with all of us being kicked out. I suppose from there we somehow made it back home."

"Where you crawled into bed with me."

"Will you not let that go?"

"Nope. This is gold material." He draped a chummy arm around England's neck. There was a bright smile on his face as he tried to imagine the fight. "It's been a long time since I've gotten into a good old fight. Wish I could remember it though."

England tolerated the closeness for a moment before he elbowed Prussia in the side and pulled away. He tried to straighten his clothes but gave up once he realized that it wasn't going to help. Rubbing his temple again, he cursed under his breath and decided he needed to brush his teeth and take a nice steaming hot shower.

"If you'll excuse me," he said and walked out of the room. He should have expected the fact that Prussia would now stick to him like an annoying stray. He reached his room and turned the knob. Or…he tried to. But the door wouldn't budge.

"What in the bloody…" He tried putting his weight in it and only managed to open the door a half centimeter.

"What's wrong?" the albino asked, eyes sweeping over the frustrated Brit.

England grunted and said, "My door is somehow blocked from the inside."

Without asking, Prussia shoved England over a bit and with their combined strength they slowly inched the door wide enough for England to slip in. He was greeted with a face full of feathers and Prussia's loud, "Gilbird! So that's where you were."

England swept over the damage, his mouth slightly opened as he tried to imagine how such a small bird managed to tip over his book shelf. How had she even gotten in here? He distinctly remembered locking the door and his window was shut. His eyes strayed over to a pot plant where he saw the gentle glow of one of the fairies. He pieced one and one together and sighed.

Now that _that_ mystery was solved.

"Out," England said as he shooed both owner and pet into the hall. "Go make breakfast or something. I need to freshen up. I feel disgusting."

Prussia stood still while the door was slammed onto his face. He shared a look with Gilbird and shrugged. "Brits." And went off to find something to entertain himself with.


	8. Chapter 8

~ 8 ~

Prussia stared at the phone and warred with himself about whether or not he should call his brother. It had already been two days so Germany should have calmed down and maybe even started feeling guilty, right? On the other hand he was, amazingly enough, having a good time with England.

Just a couple hours ago he'd found England's growing stash of American movies. All of which were gifts from America of course. England had assured him he would never, _ever_, buy an American movie willingly. He'd also confessed that he hadn't watched all of them yet and he wasn't in a hurry to do so either. Prussia would have none of that.

"This is awesome. Let's have a movie night! Or week considering how many you have. Most I haven't even heard. What the hell is 'The Fly' anyway? It looks old."

England had grimaced at the suggestion but Prussia had become so annoying with his constant insistence that he'd finally caved. His only request was that he shut up for five hours while he finished his paper work. So now Prussia was blowing time by doing what he'd initially told England he'd do. Clean the house. He'd bump across the cordless phone while scrubbing the tables.

"What say you, fem Gillybird?"

Gilbird puffed up and shook her feathers before settling back down. He took that as unhelpful and continued staring at the phone.

An awkward cough from behind him made him jump.

England stood there, fingers absentmindedly fixing his cuffs.

Prussia's eyes brightened. "You done already? That was fast."

"Actually, it's already been six hours."

Whoa, time really flied when he was busy. He contemplated doing this more often but quickly let the thought die as he remembered the movies. He dropped the dirty rag on the phone and bolted with excitement to the living room, gripping the unwilling Brit's wrist on his way. "Let's watch that Austin Powers movies. I wanna see how America does your Britishness."

"Oh God," England bemoaned. He had been especially avid in avoiding watching that one.

Prussia busied himself with getting everything ready. He wasted a couple minutes figuring how to work the VCR. Yeah. VCR. He refused to let England help him and after some fumbling and cursing, he got the movie going and threw himself on the sofa.

As the previews played, England wandered to the kitchen and cut some carrots up. He brought back a bowl of them and Prussia munched on one as the film started.

Watching a movie, especially an American one, with England was a whole new experience. His biting criticisms and sarcasm were almost as entertaining as the movie itself. Prussia couldn't help but join in after a while and they both enjoyed the movie even more than if they'd kept quiet like normal people.

"We don't all have bad teeth."

"I don't know about that one."

"I don't have bad teeth."

"Well you were born in the woods or something, right?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well you grew up on berries and shit. Of course that won't ruin your teeth."

They watched the sequels and then Prussia stumbled across a musical. He showed it to England who only frowned and said, "Must he ruin everything that is dear to me?"

Prussia put it on anyway. He was not about to admit that he might like musicals and as this one played out, he found himself singing along, especially since it annoyed the hell out of the Brit. He wasn't a huge Beatles fan but their tunes were catchy. That Lucy chick wasn't bad looking either.

England kept interrupting and pointing out how it was just random insertions of the songs with a chopped up plot but at the end, after much poking, admitted that he had somewhat enjoyed it. "I must say," he said while stretching and massaging his shoulder. "It was much better than those awful Austin Powers movies."

"You're just saying that because the other one was making fun of British Intelligence and this one was honoring the fact that your country gave birth to the Beatles."

"Don't say it like that. You make me sound like a woman."

"Sometimes I wonder." He laughed when England kicked him. "What? No insults?"

"Too tired."

The albino's laughter reverberated throughout the house and he forgot all about talking to his brother. He lied back down, content, and eyed the stack of movies wondering how many more he could watch before passing out.

"_Hey Germany? What do you think will happen to us?"_

"_I don't know."_

_Prussia hummed and banged his head against the wall. He stared at his handcuffs and almost laughed. The cuffs clanked as he tried to find a more comfortable position on the freezing floor. His chest was killing him but he hadn't wanted to mention anything to his brother. He had enough to worry about as it was. Besides, it wasn't like this was a new feeling for him. Ever since his union with his brother, that bothersome ache had followed him everywhere._

_Except this ache felt slightly different. Like it was spreading._

_Something was happening to his country but what it was, he wasn't quite sure yet._

'_Gott. Whatever happens, don't let Germany disappear.'_

_And Prussia felt his chest spasm. Without thinking, he reached to clutch at his shirt. Quickly, he rolled on his side facing away from Germany and silently struggled with the phantom pains. They traveled from his chest to his arms and legs up to his head mimicking a migraine. It consumed his mind and he felt his body falling. It felt...lonely. For some reason he felt so lonely and suddenly it didn't matter that his brother was only a couple feet away. At that exact moment, Prussia felt lost and so unbearably empty that a wayward tear leaked from his eye._

'_Gott! Gott!'_

_He felt nothing. Not his country, not his people, not the way his land breathed. Nothing. And that tragedy alone told Prussia everything he needed to know. Everything was about to change._

_And then they heard the heavy foot steps of their jailers and the loud click of the lock on their cell. Germany straightened up but Prussia pretended to be asleep. He tried to mask his face. To smile and hide the pain he was currently feeling in his body. Only when he thought he was ready, did he roll over and sit up to meet the faces of the allies._

_Their grim faces only made Prussia's smile dim in sadness. "Come to tell us the verdict huh?"_

_They all looked guilty, with the exception of Russia and China. Russia was obviously happy about something. He'd probably gotten a good deal concerning the spoils of war. As for China. Prussia supposed he'd seen many nations come and go that this wasn't new to him. There was pity his eyes though and that only made Prussia angry. He didn't need nor want pity._

_Prussia pulled himself to his feet, his brain already chanting the familiar mantra of 'pain is only an illusion that can be ignored.' He walked right up to the allies and smirked. "Cowards."_

"_Bruder," Germany warned._

"_Yeah, yeah."_

_But the pain in his body pulsed. He gazed into each and everyone's eyes and found that he wasn't angry. He wasn't resigned either but this was war and Gott knows he was familiar with the protocols. Prussia consoled himself with the knowledge that his brother was fine and would probably remain fine. Whatever the punishment was, he brother had been spared._

_And really, that's all that mattered to him._

Prussia woke up from his dream and frowned into his pillow. Why the fuck had he dreamed about that day? He pulled himself onto an elbow and smoothed his hair away from his eyes.

Gott, he could still feel the pains from his dream. What the hell?

Careful not to disturb Gilbird, he slipped out of bed and quietly made his way to the kitchen. He pulled a cup from the top cupboards and filled it with water from the sink. He drained it in one go and rested his arms against the counter. He tried to take deep calming breathes.

Shit, was he shaking? Why the fuck was he shaking?

He glared accusingly at his body for betraying him and then sighed. He left the cup in the sink and wandered over to the phone. He didn't care that it was midnight and that his brother was probably asleep. Prussia needed to talk to him and tell him that he was fine. He should have done it a long time ago.

The phone rang two times before his brother's familiar gruff voice reached his ears.

"Italy, it better be import—,"

"West?"

There was a pause and then, "Bruder?"

"The one and only."

"Where in the holy hell have you been?"

Prussia almost sighed in relief at the sound of his brother's voice. Ah, and he had him worried too. It wasn't every day that Germany let his guard down long enough to actually show his true feelings. Catching him half asleep probably helped.

"Listen West. I just called to tell you I'm fine and that you don't have to worry."

"At two in the morning?"

"Hehe! Yeah. And also I won't be coming home soon so don't bother waiting up for me." He glanced worriedly up the stairs hoping he didn't wake England. This long distance call would just be another thing he'll owe the Brit. "Gotta go. Can't use the phone for too long."

"_Warten Sei_! What are you talking about? Where are you? I'll go pick you up." There was rustling at the other end.

Prussia sighed. "Listen West, I said I was fine. I'm perfectly capable of looking out for myself. And don't even bother. I'm not in the country."

The rustling noise stopped. "What? Then where are you?"

"Bye West. I'll call you some other time."

"Bruder."

That warning tone again, the same one like in his dream and Prussia smiled.

"Bruder," he gently mocked. They held the silence for a couple seconds, just listening to the other breath, before Prussia hung up. He looked at the phone, the smile still on his face and huffed. Jeez, that went on longer than he'd wanted. Germany sure had a way of making everything longer and more complicated than necessary.

He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and index finger. They itched and he padded back up the stairs to get some much deserved rest.

**A/N: Sorry. I know this is super late and I'm also sorry if I didn't answer your review. Spring quarter started again and I was crashing a couple classes (still waiting on one) so the first week was busy. I'm also currently psyched on writing some of my original stories so I've been neglecting this. Anyway, hope the update wasn't too boring.**

_Translation:_

_Warten Sei – wait (I think)_


	9. Chapter 9

~ 9 ~

Prussia was glad that for the next two days he didn't dream. He hadn't had a flashback in years and he wondered what brought this last one on. He wasn't going to dig too deep though in case it brought on another nightmare. Instead, he'd pretend it didn't happen and continue keeping himself busy.

As this went on, Prussia found he was thinking more and this led him to a revelation.

At dinner a day ago, he noticed how they were eating in silence and found he didn't much mind. Usually he was loud and cracking jokes to rile the Brit up but there were also long stretches of silence that were…nice. That _never_ happened back home.

And so he reflected on this. England's house had a way of mellowing him out and he wasn't sure how to feel about this fact. Sure living in Germany's basement for a couple of years had made him far from the warrior he'd once been but that wasn't really his fault. Germany didn't like letting him do anything. Even when Prussia offered to help he'd get shot down on the grounds that Germany pretty much liked doing everything for himself.

Prussia liked action and keeping his hands busy so life at Germany's house those first years had been boring as hell. He'd eventually found the joys of trolling which he exploited with perverse glee, video games, his music collection, and, oddly enough, musicals. That last one was a secret that only his brother knew about.

Yet none of them could replace the years when Prussia would solve every problem with his sword.

But England didn't seem to mind making him work. Besides cooking breakfast, he was also now making lunch and dinner (mostly by his own insistence because he really didn't want a repeat of the last time he'd tried some of the Englishman's home cooked meal). They'd made lots of progress on the movie department, despite England's half-hearted protests.

And damn right they were half-hearted! Who could resist him and Gilbird when they were bored? Seriously?

Plus, Prussia wasn't about to admit it but he liked that England seemed to be trusting him. Sort of.

Hell, today England had allowed him to trim the hedge outside which Prussia was doing with more energy than necessary.

The smell of last night's rain, washing away the usual smells of the city, was refreshing and the sun was even out. Overall, he was in a good mood.

"Prussia."

He looked over at England who was holding his umbrella like a cane (in case it rained unexpectedly) and wearing his formal suit again. "I'm going to be gone for a couple of hours. Um, after I come back, we need to…discuss your situation."

Uh-oh. He supposed he'd been expecting this for a couple days now. England had said he was going to leave soon to wherever his 'cottage' was. Since he'd sort of been ignoring his brother after that late night call (which England somehow seemed to know about), Prussia wasn't in any great rush to go back to Germany. In fact, he was feeling a bit like a daredevil and England was a safety zone where he could do what he wanted without his brother breathing down his neck. Perfect arrangement if you asked him.

"No need. I'm going with you." He whipped his dirt smeared hands on his (or rather America's) pants. "Just let me get my sweater and we're off."

England spluttered for a second but Prussia wasn't going to take no for an answer. This was his chance to talk England into letting him mooch off him for a while longer. Although mooching probably wasn't the best way of phrasing his proposition, or evening thinking about it actually.

"Let's go," he said as he tried to smooth his hair into a more presentable form. It occurred to him that he should have changed clothes, after all England wasn't dressed up for nothing. He was also carrying a briefcase so that meant the errand was important, right?

Neh, too late now.

"Who said you could come along? Get your arse back to trimming the hedge."

Prussia found this funny rather than threatening and threw an arm around England's shoulders because he knew how much it annoyed him. As per usual, he immediately tried to shake him off. "Chill, Limey." He waved his hand vaguely in the air and he directed the other nation out the gate. "We can go out to eat after and have the whole tea, crumpets and tête-à-tête thing you Brits love to do so much."

Their feet clicked in synchrony as they made their way down the street.

"Although that does sound compelling, your wording will one day earn you a punch in the face." He said all this with a blank expression but there was no hiding the darker tone just beneath the comment.

The albino snickered. "And what? You threatening me now? I can still beat you in a fight. You're a shrimp compared to me."

"Oh, I beg a differ," England interjected with conviction. "And I'm not a shrimp! We're the same height, give or take a centimeter."

"Two centimeters actually. To me of course. I'm taller."

"That doesn't even count!"

The two walked and bickered. They were a striking duo: an albino with a sharp and well shaped face, a strong built frame demanding respect while the other was smaller but with extremely vibrant green eyes, a delicate aristocratic face coupled with a strange aura that radiated grace and refinement while at the same time appearing coy and even dangerous. All in all, they were getting more than a couple of head turns.

"Where are we going anyway?" Prussia finally asked, looking around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

The change of subject seemed to remind England that he was actually supposed to be doing something. "Oh, um, I'm going to the Palace of Westminster to drop something off. Perhaps I will see my boss but I highly doubt it. It won't even take five minutes. You can wait that long, can you?"

"Pfft. Of course!" What did England take him for? A toddler?

He really hadn't taken the time to explore London. If he had, he wouldn't have been quite so fascinated by the Palace of Westminster's structure. It was huge and there was that clock tower that he always seemed to see on postcards.

Note to self: go exploring!

After commenting on a couple things, like the fact that England liked towers, they reached their destination.

"Do you want to accompany me or would you rather stay here in the Victoria Tower Gardens?"

Prussia shrugged. "You said you wouldn't take long so I guess I'll just stay here and look around."

Nodding his consent the Brit's parting words to him were not to do anything stupid.

"It's only five minutes. Not much I can do in five minutes even if I wanted to."

**A/N: I said I would didn't I? Hurray for fast updates! Anyway, not much to say. **


	10. Chapter 10

~ 10 ~

Once England had left, Prussia yawned and moved to lean against a tree. His red eyes looked over the park. Children were running around but for the most part, it was a really calm place to be. It had the whole picturesque feel to it and with the sun being out Prussia almost wanted to sit down and have some sort of picnic. Italy would have been ecstatic, Germany reluctant but they both new he'd go along with it anyway.

He looked at the grass and plopped down. He still smelled like sweat and dirt from that morning and England hadn't stopped reminding him about it. Way to sound more like a girl, he'd told him which had earned him a punch to the stomach. Besides, Prussia had reminded him that they'd both had worse. Back in the years when there wasn't any indoor plumbing, being clean was a bitch.

"Hum, mister."

The soft shy voice snapped him from his thoughts and he turned his head to look at a group of small children. They were standing a few feet from him, looking at him curiously and shuffling timidly on their feet. The owner of the voice was a small girl with light brown hair and a freckled face.

Prussia smiled warmly. He liked kids. He'd raised Germany after all and he still remembered when Ita was a small gender confused kid. They were so cute back then. Well, Ita still was but he couldn't say the same for Germany.

"What can I do for you little lady."

She pointed at his head and he gave her a confused look.

"Your birdie," she explained.

Oh. That explained it. Reaching up he took Gilbird from his favorite spot, much to the waking bird's disappointment, and looked at him. To be honest, he hadn't even realized she was sleeping on his head. England would have noticed right? Or maybe they were just both so used to Gilbird being around that it wasn't so strange to see her in his hair?

Whatever it was, the kids were fascinated and were crowding around him to get a better look. Noticing the attention, Gilbird puffed up and flapped her wings. She started singing and took off from his palm to fly around in circles above the heads of the gasping and squealing kids.

Show off.

As he sat back and watched the spectacle with a grin on his face, a smaller girl suddenly appeared in front of him and reached to touch his face. He froze and gaped at her, eyes wide as the girl giggled and petted his hair and ran her hand across his eyes. "You have white hair and red eyes! How did you do that?"

Delicately, he extracted her arm from him and put some distance between them. He looked around almost frantically. Where were these kids' parents? Shouldn't they be keeping a better eye on them or something? But soon a couple of other kids were crowding around him again, realizing for the first time that yes, he did have red eyes and white hair. They also asked him how he'd done that.

"I'm this way naturally!" he cried, hoping that would satisfy them and leave him alone. Gilbird landed back on his head after the excitement the kids had shown for her had died down. "Seriously kids, time to leave me alone."

"You look like my pet bunny!" a boy exclaimed, almost like if he'd been struck by a realization. Some of the girls ooed and agreed with him.

The smaller girl who'd brought this upon him asked, "Are you a bunny in people shape?"

Okay, so not awesome. He did not resemble a bunny in any way, shape or form. Without even realizing it these kids were bruising his pride.

"No! Now listen up kids, I'm not a bunny, I'm German and I'm a human man." Well not really but for all intensive purposes he was. "I've fought in wars and beaten the French, the Hungarians, the Austrians, and a whole list of other countries, I mean, er, uh, people." He took a deep breath when he saw the curious eyes of the children. They were leaning towards him, eyes wide, mouths open, some even jumping on their hunches. They all had the same sparkle in their eyes. He remembered this look from Germany.

Story time.

When England came back, he was monetarily stunned to see a crowd of children around Prussia with some parents standing back with smiles on their face as they watched Prussia play act some scene with great energy and emotion. He looked like a fool, to be honest, but not in a bad way.

For a moment, England thought back to the spring days when he'd sit America down in the grass near the house in Virginia and read to him his favorite fairy tales. Those were the days when America hung on his every word. Now he was all grown up and England felt left behind.

England sighed and found a nice spot to wait near the shade of a tree. It wasn't long before Prussia finished and stood to leave. The protests and whines from the kids made England curious on how the albino would handle this. God knows he remembered the days when America would latch on to him with his massive strength and refuse to let go. It had required special handling to get America release him.

Prussia, it turned out, didn't need to do anything. The parents, taking pity on the man, finally took charge and gently scolded their children about harassing the nice man. Even with the reproach from their parents, it took a while for them to be led away.

Only when Prussia was finally alone did England leave his spot and approach the albino.

"Thanks for helping out," Prussia said, not surprised by England's sudden appearance.

England just shrugged and grinned slyly. "What? The great Prussia can't handle a bunch of children?"

He puffed up his chest in indignation. "Of course! Did you not see my awesome story telling and how I had all of them hanging off of my every word? I'm like their hero now." He poked England's cheek and laughed at the growl. "Ready to head out and eat?"

England thwacked Prussia's head with his umbrella and cackled at Prussia's reaction. "Looks like I found another use for umbrellas."

"Nein. It'll be up your ass if you keep it up Limey."

"Rubbish. You wouldn't even be able to take it from my hand."

They grinned at each other manically before Gilbird decided to intervene before the two started a friendly but violent game of who could punch the hardest.

England coughed and turned his head away to point at some random thing ahead. "Right, This way then." He was quiet for the walk, mostly berating himself about almost starting something with Prussia. In front of the Palace of Westminster! He hadn't felt so eager to brawl in a long time and in a way, it made him excited. That's why when he reached the restaurant he'd selected for their conversation, he was in a much higher mood and Prussia even noticed.

He didn't mention anything though which England was glad for even if he probably already knew why. Instead he commentated on his joy at eating at an Indian restaurant.

"I had some of India's food when I was over at his place practicing the number for the Halloween event. It was awesome, and the girls at his place just kept handing me plate after plate of food." He sighed in bliss. "That was the best month ever. I practiced my ass off but it was all worth it."

That perked England's interest. "A month? Really? And Germany let you?"

Prussia puffed. "Hey, Germany isn't the boss of me. Besides, it's not like I don't have a lot of free time on my hands."

Now England was confused. He politely thanked the water that handed him their menu and turned his attention back to Prussia. "Don't you share responsibilities with Germany?"

"Nein. Germany does everything. I just sort of hang out."

"And, you can go wherever you want for however long you want."

He nodded. "Yeah. France, Spain, Austria's place. India's was the best though. I went sightseeing between practices and watched so many Bollywood movies…" He trailed off there, flushing. "Anyway, I still keep in contact with India but he's a busy guy. His countries getting stronger and he has a lot of things to deal with."

England hummed in agreement with that. "Yes, India is growing stronger every year. I haven't had the chance to speak with him in a long time. Have you decided what you're going to eat yet?"

"Give me a minute."

After they placed their order, England grimacing but voicing no protests to Prussia's rather large order, they sat in silence until Prussia cleared his throat.

"So…" he started.

"Not very subtle are you."

"Well you're the one that wanted to talk to me in the first place."

"True." England blew a strand of hair from his face and said, "You've been at my place for almost a week now. I appreciate all the work you've done and you haven't been acting quite as obnoxious as I know you can be so I thank you. But I'm leaving tomorrow and I can't help but notice that you haven't made any sort of attempt to leave." He gave Prussia a pointed look. "You called Germany and told him you wouldn't be going home but I really do hope that you didn't include me in that plan of yours."

Taking Prussia sheepish face for an answer, he sighed and shook his head and said "No," right as Prussia began to try to convince him to say yes.

"Listen England, I have this all planned out." He leaned in closer to make sure the Brit was paying attention. "You don't have to take me with you. I figure I can find a job here, raise some money and maybe take a year long break to Hawaii. I hear the rain there is warm. All you have to do is rent me the house for like, a month. Maybe two."

England's stomach clenched and he couldn't help but blurt, "Why are you so bloody lucky?"

Prussia drew back like if he'd been punched and blinked in wonder at the strange question. "What?"

Crossing his arms, England looked away even as his voice grew depressed. "You heard me. How I envy that you can take a year long vacation. You don't need to worry about responsibilities and your brothers bullying you and asking to leave you. Once the year long vacation is over, Germany will be waiting for you and…" He trailed off there because England had absolutely no idea what he was saying.

You fool! Bloody idiot! How mortifying!

Meanwhile, Prussia was trying to sort out everything that had just been thrown at him. Okay brain, time to work some magic. Soooo, England was…jealous? That Prussia wasn't a nation anymore? Or that he could go on vacation?

England was blushing having realized that he'd just said some very stupid things. Curse his fair complexion! He just wanted to disappear now. Hole himself up in his room and burry his head in his pillows. This would all be easier if Prussia wasn't living in his house. That and Bellblossom was bound to ask him what was wrong. She had become quite meddlesome as of late.

"The truth is I need to get away from my bruder."

England glanced up in surprise. A question formed on his lips but he quickly replaced it with, "I…hadn't realized things were quite so bad."

"Nein. They aren't bad I just…I feel…" This was hard. He wasn't exactly a mushy, vomit my soul out, person. Germany had a better chance at opening up than he did and that was a fact. Germany had admitted loving him, Prussia hadn't. Or at least not when Germany was awake. When Germany was still a kid and sound asleep, then yeah, but never for him to hear. Hungary would say it was because he'd been raised by men on the battlefield and…well…she probably had a point.

Well, for whatever reason, Prussia didn't normally speak about his emotions. He was one of those that liked to show with actions rather than say.

He scratched his forehead and finally decided that if England could spew embarrassing emotional crap, he could too. "I had a dream about when I stopped being a nation." He trained his face up to the ceiling, deciding that the red tiles were a much safer place to rest his eyes without appearing lame. "I remember how painful and lonely it felt." He blew air out of his nose. "Germany is my bruder but at his house, even when he's around, I feel alone and I hate, _hate_ feeling that way. _Ich fühle mich schwach__und nutzlos__manchmal_."

Both nations sat in silence for a moment. England studied Prussia, suddenly seeing him in a new light. For the first time, England realized how much had really changed for Prussia. How he must have felt being pushed into the background. He used to be an empire, feared by nations, conqueror of men. A warrior. And now he was treated no better than a nuisance sometimes. God knows that's how England had viewed him at times. And although he could not comprehend the pain of ceasing to be a nation, England could at least relate to the loneliness and the resentment of being stripped of power.

They were old men now, former kingdom and empire that were overshadowed by much more powerful and young nations.

Their food arrived during there silence but neither could really summon up their appetite at the moment.

England was probably going to regret this later but…

"I suppose you can stay with me if you want."

Prussia's head snapped up. "Really?" Hope was plainly evident in his eyes.

Uncomfortable, England nodded and choked a cry of protest when Prussia threw himself across the table and gave him an awkward one arm hug. People stared at them and England was highly aware of how this might look.

"What in the blooming hell do you think you're doing!" he hissed. "Let go of me you barmy fool!"

Prussia did let go and to top it off, was disturbingly happier than before to that point that his appetite had come back. He immediately began attacking his food.

England watched him in disgust. "You can't stay at my flat in London. I'm afraid you'll destroy it."

The albino shrugged. "No problem, but for the record, I would have taken care of it like if it was my own."

"I'm sure," England mumbled, turning his attention to his own plate, filling a spoon full of basmati rice. The food aroma wafted his face as he leaned slightly in to place the rice in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and added, "You still smell by the way."

"Whatever man. It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone. And besides, sweat's the smell of a real man." He said all this between bites and after a moment where England didn't respond, he nudged his foot beneath the table to get his attention. The Brit looked at him wearily. Prussia chose to ignore this, considering he was too grateful to feel insulted by anything the Brit said or did to him for the rest of the day. "Do they have beer here? I feel like some beer."

That actually sounded like a good idea but he needed to be careful this time. He didn't want a repeat of a few days ago. The beer arrived moments later and by that time, Prussia and England were more or less back to normal.

"Cheers," he said, raising his glass.

Prussia mimicked him. "Prost."

**A/N: There! I hope that wasn't boring or anything. See, they're getting along. Plus, that was a pretty good excuse to get England to bring Prussia along. More bonding to come. I hadn't realized until I typed this up that Prussia has some issues to sort out and that hanging out with England is probably going to help him. I dunno. Seriously, this thing is writing itself. Any mistakes or typos, please tell me!  
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_Translations_

_German:_

_Ich fühle mich schwach__und nutzlos__manchmal__ – I feel weak and useless sometimes._


	11. Chapter 11

~ 11 ~

The house was quiet except for the loud bickering and insults being passed back and forth in the kitchen. It was dimly lit by the overcast sky and the counters were a mess with bowls of half cut vegetables and fruit. On the table there was a pile of leftovers.

"Are you done stuffing the potatoes?"

"Shut up. Are _you_ done making the sauce?"

"Of course! I'm the bomb when it comes to cooking. Unlike some people."

A knife flew passed Prussia's head and embedded itself on the wall. The albino whistled, impressed by the aim and the force behind it. "Hey, that was pretty good. It's nice to know you haven't gotten rusty."

The Brit's eyes flashed in irritation. "Will you focus? We're leaving at eight and at this pace we'll never finish."

The two odd balls were in the kitchen trying to use the last bit of food, which were mostly fruits and vegetables and some leftovers. Originally Prussia had proposed just eating everything (minus the leftovers). He'd actually proposed throwing _that_ away but England had been against wasting food and had offered instead feeding it to the strays. Prussia decided, after a moment of deliberation, that if he did, it could pass as animal cruelty. After much arguing, England grudgingly agreed to use the leftovers as compost for the garden at his cottage. As for the edible food, England had suggested that they experiment. That meant Prussia couldn't leave him alone. Not in the kitchen.

After some more arguing they settled on something simple. A vegetable stew and fruit salad. Prussia had made himself in charge of the stew, having way too much fun tossing in vegetable after vegetable. Right now he was adding two fistfuls of spinach while England finished up with the potatoes, humming contently under his breath.

He made a move towards the oven but Prussia stopped him before he could even touch it.

"Uh-uh buddy. I'm in charge of this." He yanked the tray out of England's hands and opened the oven with his foot. "I'm the expert with potatoes. You get back to the fruits."

Although he wasn't happy about it, the potatoes had been Prussia's idea so he let him have them. He paused for a moment by the stew and brought the spoon up to taste. Hum, it was missing something. He reached towards his spice shelf and pulled something that looked vaguely good and added it in.

"Whoa!" the albino yelled as he slammed the oven shut and practically jumped the Brit. "What the hell did you put in?" Prussia shoved him away from his stew and grabbed at the spice to read the label.

England growled and crossed his arms. "It was too bland. I added some salt."

Prussia's pale face told a different story. "Yeah, I could see that. But did you have to drown the stew in it?"

England's face flushed. "I did not drown it. My hand just slipped a bit. It's fine."

There was a chocking sound as Prussia made the mistake of tasting it. He sputtered, turning his face away from the food and hacked up a lung. The spoon clattered to the ground and Prussia gasped out, "Fine! For a fish maybe. And that's a big fucking maybe." Groaning, Prussia slammed his head on the counter. "I can't fix that shit. I'm not a five star chef like France. He could have probably fixed it. All that's left now is to throw it out." He moved to do just that but he was yanked back by England grabbing hold of his shirt.

Again he was chocked and Prussia struggled to get free.

"Oh no you don't," England hissed. "We're not wasting perfectly good food."

"Good?" he cried as he rubbed at his sore throat.

But there was no room for argument.

Half an hour later the both of them were sitting around the table, England calmly sipping his soup while Prussia sat looking miserable. He poked around the soup, cringing at the sight of a floating carrot. It looked like a corpse.

"Thanks to your craptastic cooking, another meal was ruined." Because not even the potatoes had been spared. Prussia blamed England. If he hadn't been distracted he wouldn't have put the heat on that high.

His comment went ignored. Mostly.

At least the salad came out okay. England had a knack for cutting things up, that's for sure. The yogurt had been a nice touch.

"I'm just curious," Prussia said after a moment of forcing himself to mentally turn off his taste buds to swallow the gruesome excuse for stew. He waved his spoon at England's direction. "Have you tried taking cooking lessons?"

"Are you making fun of me?"

He considered this for a moment and then shook his head. "Naw. That was an honest question. I'm just wondering how one person can fuck up so bad. And apparently it's contagious too cause I've never burned potatoes before. Ever."

"For your information, I don't burn everything. I'm a decent cook."

There was a snort but England ignored it and pressed on.

"I just…sometimes, my hand slips or I'm thinking…"

"So in other words, you're absentminded? Wow!" Prussia said with exaggerated animation. "I never would have guessed. A responsible gentleman like you?"

England grunted. If there was one thing he hated it was being mocked. "Oh, you Mr. I'm awesome at baking potatoes? Blaming me when clearly it was your fault. You're just as bad a cook as I."

"You didn't say anything when you were shoveling _my_ food into your mouth every morning."

There was a loud clatter as England slammed his spoon down and scraped his chair backwards. Wordlessly he turned and left the surprised Prussian behind. Prussia wasn't sure what to make of the flash of hurt he saw come across the Brits face. Everything he'd said was true and definitely not stuff that hadn't been said before. There was no reason for him to get that look in his eyes and make Prussia feel like an asshole.

A door slammed and he winced. Just a little.

Prussia went back to staring at his food before he growled and shoved his bowl away. He looked over at Gilbird who was staring at him from her perch on top of one of the chairs. Her steady gaze was accusing.

"Not you too," he groaned. He slumped back on his seat and crossed his arms. "This is not my fault," he said with finality. The fact that he was defending himself from his bird didn't even register in his mind. Just another day in the life of Prussia the awesome. So he continued talking. "Especially since I have no idea what I said to make England react like that."

The constant silence though was getting on his nerves, like if it was accusing him too.

What?" he asked the air. He wasn't exactly expecting an answer because no matter how many years he'd had Gillybird, she'd never talked back to him.

Well, he wasn't about to apologize…even though he felt bad now and he hated feeling bad because it meant he'd done something wrong and he didn't like admitting mistakes. That was for losers and he was most definitely not a loser. He was the awesome former Kingdom of Prussia. He'd kicked ass during his younger days and made a name for himself. People had feared and respected him. Except he wasn't a kingdom anymore. He was just Prussia, the ex-nation living off of the charity of others.

…Fuck.

He tried to force his brain to come up with a reason for England's hurt look but his eyes only drifted to his stew and burnt potatoes. Gott, looking at the sad excuse for food only intensified his guilt. And things had been going so well too.

There was nothing he could do now except pray that England didn't decide to kick him out after all. He reached over to pick up his plates when he suddenly found himself with a face full of water. No warning, no nothing. One blink and bam! It dripped down his cheeks, chin, and neck and he gaped at nothing, frozen half way between standing up and sitting back down.

He immediately jumped to his feet and spun around, hands swinging, only to see empty space. He snuck a look at Gilbird but she was in the exact same place except she'd puffed up and was piyoing and flapping her wings.

"What the fuck just happened." The question slipped from his lips in one breath (not with panic or anything) and he found himself looking around again. Nothing. Where in the hell had the water come from anyway? He focused his gaze back the table and took steady calming breathes.

He was not going to let this get to him.

"Great," he grumbled as he made his way to the sink. He whipped at his face with his shirt. "Things just keep getting better and better." He caught sight of the mess they'd left behind and cringed as he said aloud, "I might as well," secretly hoping it would be enough to make amends with England without actually saying sorry.

No such luck. Prussia was just finishing his sweep of the kitchen when England came down to get a snack. He'd stood back, hopeful, but England didn't even look at him. He just plucked a biscuit and went back to his room. Prussia watched him leave for the second time that day, smile slipping from his face to be replaced with a scowl. He threw the mop down with frustration (kicked it for good measure).

"Fuck this shit," he said and gave up his kissing up to watch some movies. By the time eight rolled in, neither was in a good mood but they were too stubborn to make the first move.

England silently put his suitcase in the back while Prussia stood back.

"I'll lock the door," he grumbled and England just nodded. Well, at least they were being civil. Sighing, Prussia made his way back and took shot-gun because even if they weren't speaking to each other, he was not going to take the back seat. England said nothing and started the car. It was silent for the first minutes as England fiddle with the radio and soon music filled the car.

Prussia was transported back to the eighties and he couldn't help but grin. He would have made a snide remark but there's a reason England had turned on the music. He didn't want to talk. So Prussia kept his mouth shut and instead stared out the window. His elbow bumped against the glass. Rivulets of water dragged down one by one and he couldn't help himself from counting them.

He sneezed and slowly but surely found his eyes slipping closed.

oOo

_Cold._

_He looked across the snow covered landscape, sword in hand, blood dripping from down its hilt. _

_Corpses._

"_Forward!" he heard his leader yell and he raised his sword in reverence. But his eyes stayed on the corpses. Faceless masses decapitated and slaughtered._

_The army marched forward._

_He tried not to stagger but the snow was deep and he was still rather small. All around him his people walked with grim determination._

_Expand and conquer._

_He has no name yet. No proper home. He moves with his people. He fights with them because that's what they do._

_They pass a village girl leaning over a body. Her cries silence his men and they pass her as they would a sleeping bear. They say nothing and yet she says something to them. Her language is foreign and he doesn't understand but her eyes say it all._

_Your fault._

_Murderers._

_But...how can this be wrong? _

_Blood is just the color of war._

_Right?  
><em>

Prussia startled awake and glared out the window. It was still raining outside. He sat back, cracking his neck. The radio had been turned down low and there was a very calming atmosphere in the car.

"Awake are you?"

Surprised that the Brit was talking to him he said, "Oh, so silent treatment is over."

Pause. "Shut up."

There was no malice or anger in the statement and Prussia laughed. Good. Things were back to normal. He leaned back, hands behind his head couldn't help but cockily say, "Aw, but you must have missed my awesome voice if you're willing to crack first."

England's only response was to raise the volume on the radio. But Prussia didn't mind. Now that things were cool between them again he could finally enjoy the ride. He wasn't going to admit it but having England angry at him felt weird.

_Einsem_

He grimaced as his mind wandered back to his dream. What was it with him recently dreaming unpleasant memories? That one wasn't as bad as the last but he tended not to want to remember the darker times with his knights. He could boast about the conquest itself, but not about what it took to make it happen. Most nations didn't boast about such things. Not even Russia.

"Are we almost there?" Prussia asked hoping to distract himself from his thoughts.

England hummed an affirmative.

Wracking his brain for something else to start a conversation he said, "Want to play I Spy?"

"Prussia," England said, his tone sounding like he would when addressing a child. "I'm driving. In the rain."

"So?"

"So work out why that would be a bad idea."

Oh yeah. He leaned back in his seat and started humming along to the song on the radio.

"Prussia," England began. Said nation turned to give him a curious look. That tone of voice didn't sound good. The other nation gripped the wheel harder and said, "What…were you dreaming about?"

Shit. Had he been talking in his sleep? Germany had once told him he did it occasionally but he'd thought he'd managed to kick it in the butt a long time ago. He looked for Gilbird who was supposed to wake him whenever he started talking. Where was she anyway?

He decided to play it cool. Shrugging he said, "Nothing important."

England did not look convinced but Prussia figured they weren't close enough yet for him to start bugging him about it. That and England was pretty reasonable (when sober) and perceptive. If Prussia didn't want to talk about it then they weren't going to talk about it. Case closed.

"What about you?" Prussia said.

England made a face. "What about me?"

He turned his body so he could look at the Brit. "Why'd you get so pissed?"

And then England smiled; a smile that Prussia couldn't quite place. Sad? Resigned? "Nothing important."

Prussia huffed. He had been hoping for something more insightful. "Throwing words back at my face isn't very gentleman of you."

"And I believe I already explained myself to you why I don't much care." The amusement was back in his voice and it made Prussia feel like a child.

He wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or special.

oOo

It was a miracle of God that once they got to the little cottage the rain had stopped. It was dark but at least now he could see the stars. And it was a beautiful view. More stars then Prussia had ever remembered seeing in the last hundred years. Towns and artificial lights tended to ruin night skies, but this. This was awesome. He actually stood staring for a good two minutes until England shoved him forward.

"In the house git."

Since it was dark, he couldn't really make out how it looked but it was definitely smaller than the house in London. While he admired what he could make of the garden (a real garden too, big and it even smelled like roses), England unlocked the door. He flicked on a lamp. If Prussia hadn't been so tired, he would have taken the time to walk around the house and admire everything. But his eyes were watery and achy and his back was hurting again for taking that nap in the car. He really needed to get Ita to massage it or something or else it could become chronic. For all these reasons, Prussia didn't feel too bad when England directed him to the room he was going to be staying in.

Tomorrow though. Tomorrow he was so going exploring because from what he'd seen, this little cottage was the complete opposite of the house in London. Warm and homey in a way he would have never associated England with.

He wondered what else there was to know about England.

**A/N: Yay! Update! Anyway so things are...going along. Just a fair warning, updates will be slower because I have school and lots of reading and writing to do. But I won't stop writing the story. No matter what, I'm gonna finish this. Thanks for the wonderful reviews guys.**

_Translation:_**  
><strong>

_Einsem - Lonely  
><em>


	12. Chapter 12

~ 12 ~

His awesome plan was spoiled though when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, sore throat, and heavy limbs. Aw, please not this. He tried to make his arms work so he could at least push himself off the bed but a rattling cough stopped his progress. "Crap," was all he could get out before he let himself flop back into bed. This was worse than a hangover because hangovers never left him feeling this weak.

As nations, the only time they got sick was because the economy was doing badly, there was a war going on, or there was some natural disaster in the works. Prussia wasn't a nation anymore. Hell, he was practically human really, immortal but with no connection to people and land. Maybe some ghost feelings from the land and the remaining people of his kingdom came to him from time to time but nothing big. That's why he shouldn't have been too surprised that he was sick now. He'd gotten colds in winter; he'd even gotten an ear infection a couple years back. He broke an arm that took the normal human time to heal (it had almost made him go insane because it had been his right arm and he'd found himself not being able to do a lot of things).

This though. This was just horrible.

"Ah, finally awake I see."

Cracking an eye open, he watched as England made his way over to him with something in his hand. Gilbird had flown in behind him and was perched by the window. Of course Prussia could only make out a blob of yellow.

"What time is it?" he croaked. Gott even talking hurt! This sucked.

"Afternoon. You were delirious yesterday."

Before Prussia could ask him about it, he felt a hand press against his forehead. He stared wide-eyed at England's thoughtful face.

"Hum, feels like your fever's down." He retracted his hand and began doing something with the…Prussia strained to see what it was he had. He cursed his blurry vision. Oh. He eyed the spoon full of cherry red syrup. Medicine.

"No," was all he said. He was not going to let England spoon feed him like a toddler. Fuck that, he would rather suffer through the cold or whatever it was that he had until it got better on its own.

England raised a thick eyebrow. "No?" He chuckled. "Prussia, I mean no offense when I say this but you're in no position to make demands."

Was that a threat? Oh, he'd like to see England try to manhandle him just so he could force medicine down his throat. Not going to happen in this or any other life time. "Limey, I'm warning you know – I'll bite your hand if you try anything."

They had a staring contest (Prussia barely able to see the Brit's face even though he was only a couple feet away from him) before England sighed in frustration. "Why are you being so difficult?"

Prussia smiled at his victory before he broke into long rattling coughs. There went his smooth win. Once he calmed down, he became aware that he was leaning over the side with England patting his back. When did this happen? He raised his arms to push him away but found that they wouldn't listen to him. Traitors. Instead, he leaned back on his bed, weak and sweaty and hating his life.

Why? Why did this have to happen? Why was England being so…Prussia couldn't find the right word because he'd never been in this sort of situation where he was sick and someone was there willing to take care of him. He also couldn't explain the contradictory feeling that was blossoming on his chest at the sight of England abandoning the medicine and instead stirring something in a teacup. The sight of him doing this simple act was too foreign for Prussia to handle and so he just watched, probably looking like an idiot because England met his eyes and made a confused face at him.

"Here," he said, offering the bed ridden albino the teacup.

He eyed is wearily (as he should seeing as how it was coming from England). "What is it?"

The Brit huffed in annoyance. "Tea. Lemon tea. It'll help your throat which I'm sure is slowly killing you the more you speak."

Well, Prussia wasn't going to deny that. He took it gratefully and took a sip. The boiling warmth burned his mouth but soothed his throat as it traveled down and settled in his stomach. He almost made an unmanly sigh at the feeling and took another sip.

England looked pleased.

"You should sleep more," England advised as he stood.

"Where are you going?" Prussia asked before he could stop himself.

England just smiled. Smiled! Like if he was calming down some…some…kid! "I'll be in my office doing some work. If you need anything, just call softly and I'll come."

Call softly? How was that going to work?

He watched the Brit leave and Prussia sat angrily in his bad, cursing and sipping his tea until it was gone. He placed it on the nightstand next to the medicine. Now that England wasn't here Prussia saw no reason to make himself suffer and swallowed down some of the medicine.

Blah!

Almost immediately he felt sleepy and rested his head back on the pillow. He looked dazedly at the ceiling and didn't think much when he saw the shape of some weird bunny green thing with wings hovering over his head. It was blurry and kind of transparent. Prussia chalked it up to his fever and the medicine and didn't think more of it when he passed out.

oOo

_He felt cold and tried to burry himself in his blankets. His room was dark and the noise of his radio only worsened his headache. Too bad he couldn't get up to turn it off. It was too far away and his body was in too much pain to try moving._

"_Bruder? Are you alright?"_

_Go away. Can't let him see me like this._

_His throat felt like sandpaper. He swallowed thickly, mentally preparing himself and called out, "Fine." The one word sliced his throat and he stopped himself from banging his head on the wall. No use in worrying West. He could handle this. Either he'll live through this or die. _

"_Well, if you get hungry..."_

_Silence and then West's retreating footsteps._

_Ah, West. Trying to be a good brother even though you have no idea how to treat me now. He would have laughed if he wasn't trying to smother his coughs._

_Why is it? He glared at his hands and then at everything around him._

_Why is it that I'm the one in pain when…?_

_He trailed off. There was no point in thinking about it. Not really. _

oOo

The silent chatter and buzz of his fairy friends was a comfort as England sat at his desk and relaxed into his work. Prussia was probably still sleeping and recovering from his fever. At the thought of the albino, England paused and glanced over in the direction of his room. The sight of the ex-nation sickly and weak was completely new for him and he could acknowledge that he had been worried. Not a lot mind you. He had, after all, been in wars with Prussia so he had seen him bloodied and bruised. In that respect, he wasn't _worried_ worried. No. He was more…unsettled. Unsettled on how human like Prussia was in the midst of his delirium because no matter how injured or sick he was in battle, he always maintained an aura of invincibility, looking more like some god of war than a ghost. It made him wonder whether this sort of thing happened often (Prussia getting sick).

Well at least he seemed to be getting better if this morning was anything to go by. He smirked at Prussia's stubbornness. Honestly, Prussia could act like such a child. It was reminiscent of when America or Australia took sick.

But that cough. It sounded ghastly and England almost felt bad for him.

His musings were rudely cut short at the obnoxious noise of his phone ringing.

_I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night.  
>He's gotta be strong<br>and he's gotta fast._

He dived for it, spotting it beneath his paperwork and fiddled with it trying to turn it off, hoping to God that Prussia was in his drugged sleep and couldn't here this abhorrent ring tone. When had America gotten to his phone anyway?

_And he's gotta be fresh from the fight.  
>I need a hero. I'm holding out for a hero 'til —<em>

"What!" England yelled, catching himself and lowering his voice as he repeated his question. "What…do you want America."

"Dude! England, how's it going?"

His loud and cheerful voice both annoyed and frustrated him. Still, he wasn't about to forgive him for changing his bland ring tone into this.

"How many times have I warned you not to touch my phone? This is for work. If you must call me, use the phone number I provided you with."

"Aw, but that's some home phone and you almost never answer."

That was the point. He sighed though, willing himself not to get aggravated. "Why are you calling?"

"Oh! I wanted to invite you over. I haven't seen you like in forever. I bought some new movies and a new house in Michigan. It's pretty sweet. Canada —," there was a bit of a scuffle and England frowned at the sound of something breaking and America's loud 'no' before the phone went dead. England stared at it for a moment, wondering what just happened before it immediately started ringing again.

_I need a he—_

"America," England warned.

The other just laughed nervously. "Sorry bout that. Tony got jealous."

The alien. England scowled but forced himself to remain calm. After all it wouldn't do to wake Prussia up when he was recovering from an illness. It would probably make him more difficult and annoying. "I don't think I'll be welcomed," he settled with.

A 'Damn right you fucking limey' floated through the other end and England gritted his teeth.

"Aw, you're no fun."

England said nothing only stared at the papers in front of him, ball point pen resting neatly on the side. He moved it with his index finger watching it role around almost to the edge of the desk before stopping it and moving it back to where it was.

"I have work," he said. "Unlike some nations."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't kill you to have some fun." There was a pause and then America's overly cheerful voice came back. "Well, I'll leave you to your work. I think I'll call Japan and see if he wants to come over. He might even bring a cool new video game. Talk to you later!"

"Bye," England said before they hung up. He leaned back in his chair, frown still on his face. Guess his company wasn't too fought after which was fine with him. Just fine.

"England."

He immediately sat straight and turned his attention to one of the fairies he'd left tending to Prussia. "What is it? Something wrong?" He was about to get up and check when she just shook her head and smiled.

"No. The white one is simply hungry. His fever has remained stable but his cough still sounds horrible."

He nodded, absorbing in the information before he stood up and headed towards the kitchen. He would boil some more tea for Prussia's throat and cook him a simple chicken broth. He'd have to go to the grocery store soon stock up on supplies but that could wait until Prussia could at least sit up on his own.

**A/N: Yes I know. Late. Sorry it's just that I couldn't come across an opening scene. I guess you could say I had minor writer's block. Prussia getting sick was supposed to happen later but since it was the only thing that kept popping into my mind I decided to go with it for this chapter. I'd like to think all the lovely people who reviewed and I hope for some constructive criticism. There are probably many mistakes so if you could point them out for me that would be great. I'm kinda happy about this and I'm kinda not. **


	13. Chapter 13

~ 13 ~

"You know," Hungary said as she frowned at nothing in particular, "I just noticed but it's been very quiet around here."

They were sitting around the dining table eating lunch, Kugelmugel creating a sculpture with the vegetables and Austria pausing from his spoon to say, "Count small mercies."

"But why is that?" Hungary asked. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Something was missing but she'd been so preoccupied with other things she hadn't bothered to explore the feeling. Austria merely resumed his delicate eating, not wanting to question the blissful peace that had settled around his home. He actually couldn't remember the last time silence and tranquility lingered in his home for more than a day let alone a week.

"Onkel Prussia has not been here for days," Kugel offered, not taking his eyes off from his artwork as he leaned back to observe his progress.

Austria frowned at Kugel. "Don't play with your food," before the words actually struck him and his frown deepened. That's right; Prussia hadn't shown his face in a while now. Hungary's eyes widened as well as she realized the same thing.

They sat in silence.

"Perhaps he's finally grown up?"

"Maybe."

But they both knew better.

"Maybe he's planning for a giant prank along with those other two. I should call Germany and ask him what's up. He'll be more reliable than if I call Prussia himself." She was not offering because she was worried. There was no need to worry about that annoying albino.

Austria nodded. "Yes, that would probably be wise." The frown didn't leave his face though.

They sat in more silence, Kugel being the only source of noise as he moved his plate around and hummed in thoughtfulness and disapproval.

"I should go then," Hungary said and hurried out of the room to grab at her phone and speed dial Germany.

oOo

"You don't think Prussia is mad at us, right? I mean, he hasn't answered our calls."

France shrugged, more interested in the cute bartender across from him. He winked for her, smiling when he saw her look away hastily and busy herself with the tables.

Spain continued. "I mean, it's been a week and Prussia missed our weekly get together. He never misses our drink days!"

"That _is_ something to worry about," France said taking a sip of his wine. He rested his check on his palm and gazed thoughtfully at Spain who was slowly making himself drunk. He himself didn't want to worry for nothing. Surely Germany would have called if something had happened to Prussia. He licked his lips. "If you're so worried, why don't we drop by Germany and check on him, oui? We're only a country over. We'll just call a taxi and violá!"

Spain lifted his head hopefully. "Sí! Call right now. Maybe Germany will be home. You know how Prussia never answers the phone unless it's his cell phone."

France laughed and shook his head fondly at his friend. He clapped the Spanish man on the shoulder and said softly, "Non mon ami. Not call. Drop by. Let us surprise our friends!" After all, surprise visits were always the most informative. Mmm, like that last time… "Remember our last surprise visit?"

France nudged Spain for emphasis who chocked on a laugh, wine spraying over the table as he tried to cover his mouth with his hand. They glanced at each other and laughed deviously for a couple of minutes before they paid the bill and left hoping to sleep for a bit and then head on their way to 'surprise' Prussia in the morning.

oOo

The last couple of days had been very long indeed. Germany had been working out more than usual and doing his paperwork at an insane pace. He wished he knew where Prussia was although he kept telling himself that his brother was fine. He wasn't a child after all. He could take care of himself; he'd been doing it for most of his life – hard as it was to believe sometimes.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It was unnerving.

Which is why he jerked a bit at the sound of the phone ringing. He reached before it rang a second time. He wasn't going to admit that he kept the phone with him at all times just incase his brother called.

"Hello?"

"Germany?"

"Hungary?"

"Yeah," there was a soft chuckle.

Germany frowned. "What do you want?"

She cleared her throat. "Um, this might be a strange question but, uh, have you noticed any strange behavior in Prussia?"

Germany straightened up in alarm and practically growled into the phone when he asked, "Is he there?"

Pause. "No…Is everything alright?"

Verdammt! "Yes. Yes everything is alright."

"Then why did you –,"

"Listen Hungary, I'm really busy at the moment. Italy is making a mess of my kitchen so it's not really a good time right. Maybe later." Hopefully Prussia would be back somewhere between that later.

"Well, okay then."

"Yes, yes, I will tell Prussia you called. Tschau."

He hung up before she could respond.

Germany sighed in relief. He hoped Hungary would leave it at that. He didn't exactly want people finding out, mostly because he felt his brother would come back when he was ready and having people meddle would only cause problems. It was better this way. He hoped.

Meanwhile, Hungary was glaring at her phone, not at all happy at being dismissed so easily. "Nothing, huh?" she said biting her lip but gripping the phone hard enough to make it crack under the pressure. "We'll see about that." Something was definitely up and she was going to find out what one way or another.

oOo

Prussia was so happy that he could finally move around, even if it was only for a couple of minutes at a time since he still felt like crap, that he couldn't even put it into words. Those two days of lying in bed and being sick were the most boring and miserable days of his life and there was only so much he could take reading and listening to music. He wanted to go outside already and maybe figure out why this house is surrounded by glowing lights and weird little see-through creatures. He would have asked England about it but it sounds crazy even in his head and Gott knows that would make him worry. Which brought him to his other source of confusion:

England

For the last two days (three days really if you count the day he was knocked out) England had been by his side, attentive, making sure he took his medicine, even making him soup (which actually didn't taste that bad) and just making him feel as comfortable as possible. It was freaking him out a little bit, more than the glowing creature things, if he was honest. He had let it slide so far, mostly because he hadn't been sure how to feel about it and besides it was kinda nice; but now…

Well, to be frank, he wasn't sure what to make of it and this fact alone was making him become agitated and frustrated. Why exactly was England doing this and why was it making him feel so…so…he didn't even know what to call it!

The question was going to eat at him until he got an ulcer and then he'd be worse off then he was before. England owed him nothing, debts between them were always paid by way of exchange; like in war they would help each other and even right now Prussia was paying England's tremendous generosity with work (okay maybe not right now exactly because he was bedridden but he'd make up for the missed time once he got better).

He could always just ask him – he was sitting right across from him flipping through a book, looking very domestic actually which was another thing that he was wondering about. England went from workaholic to almost maternal in a matter of days. Was this normal?

Guh! He was so fucking confused!

"Hey England?" he rasped hating how soft his voice came out.

"Hum?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose."

"What's the deal?"

"The…deal?"

"Don't play with me," he snapped and recoiled back as his coughed into his hand. England stood to pat him on the back but Prussia pushed him away. Instead, England got a glare for his efforts and he sighed in annoyance.

"So difficult," he mumbled.

"Answer the question!"

"I don't know what you're asking you fucking sod!" This was getting ridiculous! This is the thanks he gets for helping out someone who's sick? Prussia was acting like a whiny brat.

"I don't know either! It's just…Ugh!" And he really did look lost, England noticed. He stood there, staring at him with confusion as if trying to figure him out, before he frowned and turned to head back to his room mumbling, "Leave me alone for today, okay?" England didn't try to stop him – he figured it was for the best. Whatever Prussia was thinking was in chaos and he needed some time to meditate before they could talk again calmly and like adults. At least he'd finally voiced his concerns even if they didn't make sense. England had not been blind to the Prussians mood swings and over all grumpiness. At first he'd passed it off as because of the sickness but gradually, as Prussia got better and his mood didn't improve, he deduced it was something else that was bothering him. What it was he wasn't entirely sure but he did know it had to do with his presence. Leave it to Prussia to make things more difficult than they were supposed to be.

"Do you know what he was trying to say?" he asked Tailglow, one of the fairies he'd put in charge of keeping watch over the stubborn albino nation.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. He is…strange."

"Yes. Quite."

Oh well, he'd deal with the Prussia later. Right now, he could take the time to go grocery shopping. Obviously if Prussia felt well enough to start an argument, he could be left alone for an hour or two while he drove into town and picked up some supplies. They were running low on tea and, he supposed, medicine as well (although he wasn't too keen on being nice to Prussia after this little blow out).

"Bloody Prussian."

oOo

"Stupid medicine tasting like Scheiße." He took it anyway only because his throat was killing him and he felt like puking. At least it'll make him sleepy and then he can forget about his emotions which were starting to feel like Ita's driving. An accident waiting to happen.

He knows he was being stupid. England hadn't done anything except be kind and attentive to him (weird as it was) and Prussia was just being an ass about it. He was aware, thanks.

Huffing, he turned on his side to glare at the lamp and the crazy clown picture hanging on the wall. Whose idea was it to hang that monstrosity on the wall? It couldn't have been England and why was he barely noticing it now?

"If you could Gilly, I'd ask you to tear it down."

He closed his eyes and decided that next time he'd apologize to England and pretend nothing had happened. Yeah, that seemed like the best route to take. He rolled over on his back again and sighed in resignation as the drowsiness hit him. He'll be gone in a couple of minutes, off to dream land where he might or might not have another nightmare.

A light breeze wafted his face and his grimaced. Did he leave the window open? God dammit he was sick enough as it was. Cracking an eye open, he was ready to push his heavy body out of bed to close the window when he caught sight of glowing orbs around his head.

What the f…

Not just around his head but drabbed around his bed, next to Gilbird, hovering over by the door, some were even moving. How did they suddenly…he should have noticed…how did they sneak in without him noticing?

He swears his heart stopped beating for three seconds. What? How? Instincts kicked in and he counted down from ten. No. This was not a time to panic. The awesome former Kingdom of Prussia does not panic. His breathing calmed and he took the moment to eye the distance from his bed to the door. He was weak but he was pretty confident he wouldn't fall and he could put up a fight if these…things tried to kill him.

Okay, to the count of three.

Goosebumps broke out on his arm when one of the glowing things got closer to his face.

"Three!"

He jumped without really thinking and made a break for the door. He glanced back to see the glowing things just hovering before a couple of them started to follow him. That wouldn't do. If he went outside there was a possibility they would leave him alone. That was his plan. He didn't expect to almost run into a translucent man wearing a green suit and hat, a pipe in his hand, blocking the way to the front door.

"What in the hell?" he cried as he backtracked. Back door it was. What is going on? He immediately reached up to touch his forehead as he scrambled across the house and yanked the door to the backyard open. No, he didn't have a fever. Maybe he took too much medicine and was high. That would explain it because who in their right mind sees a leprechaun wandering around their house like it's an everyday occurrence?

He took cover behind one of the many oak trees, pressing his back against the bark as he tried to catch his breath and stop himself from coughing. He peeked out but couldn't see any of the apparitions following him. He lost them. An almost hysterical chuckle left his lips which quickly turned into a shout when he saw a large white horse with a fucking horn on its head. It was right across from him, shimmering in and out of focus, watching him. He wasn't thinking straight, clearly, because he dropped down on the dirt to pick up a fallen tree branch and brandish it like a sword.

"Get away!"

It either didn't understand or it didn't care because it took one step closer to him. Scheiße! He threw the branch, aiming for its head. That spooked it. It ran away leaving a trail of sparkles. If Prussia had been in his right mind he would have wondered about the sparkles but he was more worried about getting as far away from the house of demons as possible. He didn't get very far though. With the adrenaline rush down the medicine was taking affect and his eyes were getting heavier.

"Fuck this," he slurred, not at all happy about this turn of events. If he had still been a nation, this human medicine would have done nothing to him. Maybe he could just rest for a bit, close his eyes for a moment.

"Prussia?"

"Whoa!" he cried, turning around and almost toppling over. Why was the world spinning? The next thing he knows he's falling. He didn't land on his face though because England was holding him up by the arm.

He could see England's furious face, red and eyes dangerous. He wanted to laugh at him as he faintly heard the Brit scold him in his angry British accent. "What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing walking out in this weather with only your sleepwear and socks? Are you daft?"

Weather? Oh. That's when he noticed that it was fucking freezing! His feet were soaked and his teeth were chattering.

"No," Prussia said after a moment of processing the question. "But I think I might have gone insane."

"What?" the Brit grunted as he practically carried and dragged Prussia back to the house. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm seeing things, man. They're following me. I think I saw a leprechaun in the house," he admitted.

England almost dropped him on that one. He gave Prussia an incredulous look. "Could you repeat that?"

His stare was making Prussia uncomfortable. "Um, I don't want to," he murmured.

"Leprechaun?" he insisted.

When someone else actually said it, it sounded so stupid and Prussia blushed. "No," he defended. "Something demon like. Yeah, it looked like a leprechaun but I'm sure it was a demon. A demon with an army of glowing things and a horse." Before Prussia could say anymore, he cried out in surprise as England lifted him up and carried him the rest of the way. "Let go!" but his protest fell on deaf ears and he growled in annoyance as he was dumped in the sofa.

England took a seat next to him, his eyes never leaving Prussia's face.

"Ladies!" he called.

Ladies? Prussia blinked in confusion only to cringe back at the sight of the glowing thing making their way over to England. The Brit just looked at his reaction with a mix of fascination and amusement. He held out his hand and one of the glowing things landed.

"Tell me what happened?" he said softly.

Prussia watched with amazement as England leaned his ear towards the thing and focused on, what Prussia presumed, was a conversation because England was nodding and making noises of having understood whatever was being said to him. Finally he drew back and the glowing them flew up into the air to hide behind a pot plant. Prussia watched it wearily but as long as it was far away from him, he didn't mind. England seemed at ease with them so that meant they weren't dangerous, right?

"Prussia." The albino looked up and was left feeling confused at the Brit's hopeful face. "What exactly do you see?"

"Glowing things and see-through things. What are they?" he asked.

England hummed. "I see." He was silent for a moment and then, "Well, you definitely have not seen demons. The leprechaun was just that. A leprechaun. The horse was probably Beauty taking her evening stroll and the glowing things, as you call them, are fairies. I must say, you gave them quite a fright."

"_I_ gave _them_ a fright?" Unbelievable. Immediately he began hacking up a lung, his throat exploding with pain at the strain. "Ah shit," he gasped.

England was by his side in moments. "Come along. You need rest. And a change of clothes."

Without any other choice, Prussia allowed himself to be taken care of. The drowsiness was back and the move from the living room to his room happened so fast he couldn't even remember lying down in his bed. He can feel England taking off his dirty socks and covering him up with multiple blankets.

"You're so nice to me," Prussia slurs.

England pauses to give Prussia a startled look. "Er, well you're ill. And you're my friend."

"No, you don't understand. No one has _ever_ been this nice to me. Ever. I grew up around soldiers who all looked after themselves and then I took care of my brother who depended on me. I've never done this before."

A soft chuckle. "You sound like a virgin."

"Haha, very funny Limey. But I'm serious."

"For once."

"Shut up!" and surprisingly he did. He'd rather sleep than have another argument with England and so he closes his eyes to do just that. Moments later he feels a soft hand on his shoulder. It's…comforting. Before he passes out though, he mutters, "You know, I was sick like this before, only worse. It was after I stopped being a nation. I knew what was going on. It happened to Brandenburg except he didn't pull through it. It was a fifty-fifty chance for me too."

He didn't need to open his eyes too see the surprise on the Brit's face. "Never did tell Germany. Probably thought I was messing around with porn or something for the week. Kesese."

England didn't know what to say. He hadn't known. Apparently, no one had ever known that Prussia had been close to disappearing after the end of the war, not even his own brother. This sickness though. England had never heard of it because he had never seen an actual nation go from nation to ex-nation before. But, if what Prussia was saying was true, the same thing had happened to his brother…Did that mean it had been his fault?

He looked back at Prussia with a troubled frown. They would need to speak of this later.

oOo

In times of war, it was necessary to be able to sneak up behind an enemy. Hungary had perfected the skill and that was what she was doing now as she crept along Germany's backyard although she wasn't out to kill anyone only to spy.

It was early morning and despite not having slept, she was awake and wired up. She'd had a long debate with herself, about breaking into the house and finally decided that Germany wasn't going to tell her anything if she asked nicely. That meant she'd have to scavenge for the truth on her own and as silently as possible. First she needed to safely and with minimal damage, find a way inside.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the house, two very happy and determined nations were making their way over to the front door. They were dressed in black, blending in well with the faint rays of light although if anyone was awake to look outside and spot them, they would have immediately assumed that the nice young man who lived with his brother was about to get robbed.

But it was early morning…

"Oh," France said as he spotted two of the three dogs the German brothers owned. They had heard their approach and were wryly eyeing them, low growls emitting from their throats. France's eye twitched, not yet forgetting the last time when one of them had chased him down and taken a bite out of his leg. He motioned for Spain stiffly. "Quick mon ami, throw it!"

Digging into his pants, Spain pulled out a paper wrapped package which he pealed away to reveal two good portioned slabs of meat.

The dogs froze and sniffed the air.

"Throw it," France urged and breathed a sigh of relief when Spain did and the dogs bolted for the food. That solved that problem. "Bon. Now to get down to business." He took out the key he'd snatched from Prussia a long time ago (the Prussian had though he'd lost it. How wrong he was honhonhon). The door clicked and the two friends grinned at each other before slowly creeping inside…

Hungary had found a window which looked like it had been messed around with one too many times (probably Prussia's doing seeing as how Germany was anal about everything being perfect) and with brute force broke the lock and made a space wide enough for her to crawl in.

She smirked, pan ready.

The house was quiet and she briefly wondered where Germany was.

Spain walked past the kitchen and paused long enough to pick one of the ripe tomatoes set inside a bowl along with other fruit. This was a sign that Romano was over more often than he wanted to be, not that Spain minded if it meant there were lots and lots of tomatoes lying around.

"Leave that alone," France said.

"Too late, amigo," Spain said taking a generous bite.

Hungary frowned and tilted her head to listen better. She could have sworn she'd heard…

"Let us quickly make our way to Prussia's room before Germany discovers we are here."

Whispers. Familiar whispers. Hungary frowned and curiously inched her way towards the noise.

Spain saw her first. "Dios…" and he dropped his tomato. That alone made France freak out and he let loose a rather loud yell. Hungary, not sure what to do (and wondering what the heck those two were doing here, walking around like burglars), lifted her pan in self defense.

"What the…?"

"Hungary?"

"France? Spain?"

Simultaneously: "What are you doing here?"

"That is a good question. Please answer it for me before I shoot you."

All three jumped and turned to see Germany standing off to the side, face stoic and hair and clothes rumbled like if he'd just rolled out of bed.

Spain and France laughed nervously and lifted their hand's up in surrender. "Germany…there is a good explanation for all this."

"Then you better start explaining."

Hungary puffed her cheeks in outrage. "This is your fault to begin with! If you'd just told me about Prussia –,"

At the mention of the albino, Germany's shoulder's stiffened and it did not go unnoticed. The reaction was worrying and France bit his lip. The worst possible scenario flashed through his mind.

"Is it bad?"

Germany stared at them for a good while before he lowered his weapon and sighed in defeat. "Fine. I suppose if you went to so much trouble breaking into my house." He said that last part with a mild scolding tone but neither of the three cared much for it. "Let's go to the living room," he said instead.

oOo

The feeling of waking up with eyes closed, warm and content is a good feeling. You know, when the house is quiet and there's time to think about nothing in particular. There are no worries and no aches or pains. Prussia sighed and snuggled his cheek against the pillow that already smelled of him. That is until everything he spat yesterday hit him on the face.

"A fuck!"

He slumped and then slowly got up. He wearily looked around his room but he couldn't see any of the glowing things. Only Gilbird was in the room, watching him from her perch on the windowsill.

"Did you know those things were around?" Prussia asked. He remembered seeing her flapping around with what appeared to him to be nothing. Maybe it wasn't nothing.

"Piyo."

"You probably became friends with them, didn't you?" he said accusingly but turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Which was that England knew too much. Too much about his feelings and crap.

He rubbed furiously at his cheek and nose, feeling that damn heat rising to his face. Life just couldn't suck more. Or his life at least. Rephrase: _his_ life just couldn't suck more.

"I have to talk to him," he mumbled. "Maybe we can pretend it never happened and put this whole issue behind us." The last thing he needed was England thinking of him as a useless sissy who needs mothering. He doesn't want pity.

"That's it," he said, determined, and quickly changed clothes (like hell he was going to give another reason for England to look down at him). He walked out of his room and looked down the small hall. England was probably in the living room. He could smell the burnt scones and tea from all the way over here.

Sure enough when he entered the room England was waiting for him. Prussia was taken aback for a moment before he cleared his throat and tried to look like nothing was wrong. "Hey."

"Good morning."

Prussia walked a bit closer but made sure to stay out of arms reach. He wasn't sure why he was being so paranoid. It wasn't like England was going to attack him or anything. "So…about last night."

He was pinned with an intense green-eyed stare and Prussia knew this wasn't going to be easy. But he wasn't a quitter (at least not when it mattered) and he plowed on ahead. "Yeah, see, you shouldn't listen to what I said. I was technically high and I thought I was going crazy so I wasn't exactly thinking straight."

"Really now?"

That fucking bastard! Prussia narrowed his eyes but continued on, "Yeah. So I would appreciate it if we – I dunno – forgot about the whole thing…" He trailed off when he saw those glowing things from yesterday fly in through the window and surround England like a glowing halo. He couldn't help the mild cuss word that left his lips.

"Let me ask you something," England said, cutting Prussia off before he could go into anymore of his excuses. The albino blinked, distracted but listening. "Do you…hate your brother now? For what happened after the war?"

Silence. Prussia was tempted to walk over and punch him in the face but refrained. Instead he let loose a wry chuckle running his hand tiredly over his face. "Thought I made it clear I don't want to talk about this limey."

But England didn't fall for the bait. Instead he sat and watched him, inspecting his minute reactions and probably cataloging them in some brain folder titled 'Prussia's Issues.' Gott, he hated this. It was a loaded question too; one that he knew the answer to right off the bat but didn't want to voice it because it sounded so horrible and it made him feel guilty.

"You don't have to –,"

"Shut it," he snapped and took deep breathes. England had him cornered. If he didn't answer there would still be that question hanging between them and it would annoy the fuck out him until he explode and did something stupid, probably get himself thrown out or something. As it was, he couldn't afford that, not unless he wanted to go back to Germany feeling even more depressed and not to mention there would be this new awkwardness between him and England. He really didn't want that. Really.

"Let me just say, 'fuck you.'"

England offered him a crooked smile.

Silence. Prussia flexed his hand and finally, "No. Not anymore. But I did."

As soon as those words left his mouth, it was like he couldn't shut up. "After I got better from the illness, I hated him. Told myself every night that I hated him. I treated him like shit, causing messes, making him clean it, bluntly insulting him, mocking him, and going off all night, even days without telling him and then showing up drunk. He tolerated it, probably his way of letting me vent because he couldn't imagine what it felt like to not be a nation anymore." Prussia recalled those months; how he'd always felt angry and frustrated and how his brother's sad and hurt face just pissed him off even more. It had been a never ending cycle.

"One night though, I realized why his worry and pain affected me so much and decided that I should stop being a dick. It's impossible to hate your own brother, you know?"

Of course England knew.

"It still didn't stop me from resenting and envying him but instead of taking it out on him, I just started feeling like shit. Funny how that works." He stopped and eyed England. "So there you go _princess_. My life so far. Anything else you want to know?"

"No," he answered distractedly. He was in deep thought, in a world of his own. This all sounded oddly familiar to him and a feeling of nausea was settling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to ask Prussia more about the illness, whether it occurred in self-identifying nations. Did – did he almost kill his own…

Prussia had watched in alarm and a bit of sadistic fascination as England's face clouded over with dark feelings. It was a look he was acquainted with, after all Prussia had caught glimpses of his own face when he'd been at his worst. Whatever England was thinking about, it sure as hell wasn't bunnies and rainbows.

"Well if you don't have anymore questions, I've got a couple for you. About these fairies, why can I only see them glowing?"

He patted himself on the back when he watched England focus on him again, the dark cloud retreating. "Glowing? You mean you can't see their individual faces?"

"They have faces? I thought they would be more like insects."

The glowing things jolted and clustered around his face. It didn't take a genius to see that they weren't too happy about his comment. Prussia was only mildly freaked out. "They're not attacking me, right?" he asked, looking over at the Brit for help.

He just looked amused. "No, but their words alone could be knives."

"Glad I can't hear them then."

"You wouldn't be able to understand them if you could."

Prussia laughed. "So what, they speak fairy?"

"If that's what you wish to call it."

It amazed him but Prussia swears he'd never seen England smile so sincerely before. It made him feel good, the kind of good he felt when he helped elderly women cross the street or when he buys a homeless person food to eat or even when he helps out the younger micronations in their cute attempts to become nations, giving them advice and stuff.

He feels kinda free too. He just told England his darkest secret and he feels light. Literally, he's hiding nothing from him and it's actually a good feeling too. He's relaxed, England looks relaxed. He wants to keep it this way.

"Hey, what can you tell me about the green see through thing? You know the one that looks like a bunny but with wings?"

"You've seen Flying Mint Bunny?" England asked his eyes wide and excitement seeping from his voice.

Prussia raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you call it?"

"Not 'it.' Please do refrain from insulting my friends."

It was the start of a very animated and interesting discussion.

**A/N: Well, I finally updated. School has actually been taking up much of my attention so this was put to the side for a bit. Hopefully this really long update makes up for the lateness. Since it's so long, there are probably many, many, many mistakes and if anyone catches some don't be shy on telling me. Um, what can I say? Oh, sorry if Spain, France, Hungary, and Germany are oc. They actually sort of made their way in the story but now that they're here, you can bet they will be causing some trouble. Last part of the chapter is probably crappy.**

_Notes:_

_Brandenburg – a Germanic state which apparently became one with Prussia. Before being Kingdom of Prussia he was Brandenburg-Prussia. _

_Translation:_

_Tschau – bye (I thought it was appropriate for Germany to use seeing as how it's the German way of saying Ciao)._


End file.
